Why does having a good or bad hair day directly affect what the rest of our day is going to be like? 

Why is it that if my hair is cooperating, then everything else in my day is just supposed to magically go AMAZEBALLS? 
(My daughter told me that people don't use this word anymore, but, oh well.)

I never thought about my hair representing my heritage until I saw a video on Facebook posted by  “Pero Like” called “Pelo Bueno Pelo Malo”. 

(Warning: Pero Like is about Latino's, and has both serious and funny videos. Some words are nice, some are naughty, but they all have truth to them.)

Pelo Bueno Pelo Malo is translated in to Good Hair Bad Hair. The good hair is more Americanized. It’s relaxed and straight and easy to style. Bad hair is kinky, and curly, and shows more of our African roots. After watching this video, my first thought was, “Seriously? This is a thing? I mean, I know curly hair can be a pain, but bad? Really?”

When I was a kid, I hated having a curly halo, when my friends all had sleek and smooth roots.

  I wanted to fit in with my friends, and I wanted to be able to style my bangs like they did.

 But with my natural curls (and no straight iron) there was no way I could style my hair like theirs. Instead of the lovely arch that so many girls in the early to mid 90’s had, I was blessed with a curly tube across my forehead. 

(Somewhere there's a picture of this travesty. Thankfully, I don't have it.)

The only time this worked for me was when I went to one of those celebrity head shot places and came away with this

(BTW, this style required a lot of hairspray, and a lot of time)

 My mother, bless her heart, never complained to me about doing my hair as a kid. I have mad respect for her now, because as a mother of 3 girls with curly hair, the struggle is real! My cupboard is full of creams, gel, mousse, spray, dry shampoo, and many other styling essentials to help achieve a “natural” look.

Over the years I have styled my hair both straight and curly, but it wasn’t until I watched the video that  I realized how much my curls are a part of what makes me who I am. I am a Latina woman with African roots, and I’m very proud of my entire heritage.

 My recent hair journey has taught me that I am more than my hair; I am several things compiled in to one kind of amazing person, descendant from other amazing women with this same beautiful hair. I know that I am more than my hair, but I also know that my hair is a big part of me. And when my hair is on point, and the frizz is gone, it really does turn my entire day around.

"In Your Patience Possess Ye Your Souls"

Patience is a virtue. That’s what I have heard my entire life. It is a virtue that, unfortunately, I do not possess. I have never had patience in the kitchen, and that is why I don’t bake. With baking you have to be precise, you can’t rush the process. If you melt your butter your cookies come out flat. If you overbeat your cake it will dip in the middle. If you turn the heat high on your sugar you will burn your toffee. These are all reasons that I cook, instead of bake.
Patience is something that we must learn in order to endure our mortality. Being a parent is something that can test our patience every day. When my children were babies I couldn’t wait for them to hurry up and learn how to talk so that they could tell me what they wanted, and where they were hurting. That wish backfired when I was given one daughter with the gift of gab and the other one became a mild hypochondriac. How would things have been different if I had been more patient, and just enjoyed each step of the journey? 

In Luke 21:19, the Savior tells us to have patience in our souls. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf expanded on this passage in his talk “Continue in Patience” during the April 2010 General Conference. He said “Patience is a process of perfection. The Savior Himself said that in your patience you possess your souls. Or, to use another translation of the Greek text, in your patience you win mastery of your souls. Patience means to abide in faith, knowing that sometimes it is in the waiting rather than in the receiving that we grow the most. This was true in the time of the Savior. It is true in our time as well, for we are commanded in these latter days to “continue in patience until ye are perfected.”

So how do we win mastery of our souls? It isn’t something that most of us are born with. It is something that we have to continually work on. I was inpatient as a young mother, and I didn’t realize how hard that would be until my children were older and getting ready to graduate from High School. One day it just hit me, I had spent so much time wishing for my daughter to grow up that I didn’t enjoy the process. The hard times were hard, but I neglected to really take joy in the good things. When I became a mother again later, I decided to stop and enjoy it all. I have tried to win mastery of my mothering soul, even though it is not always easy. There are days when I would love to sell my little fournado to the gypsies if I knew any. But my perspective of what is and what isn’t important has changed. Since I know how fast it goes, I know that snuggles in the recliner are more important than the laundry that’s waiting to be folded, and bedtime stories are more important than the dinner dishes. While we are developing greater patience with our children, that mastery can flow over in to other areas of our lives. We can be more patient with our spouses and other family members. We can be more patient with our co-workers and other ward members. And maybe, we can even be more patient with ourselves.

Knitting and Sinning

I am the type of person that has to keep my hands busy while I’m watching a show. I used to play on my phone, but that usually leaves me annoying my husband with questions like, “Wait, what just happened?” and “Who is this guy?” It’s very frustrating to me, and irritating to him. When I knit, I can just keep my fingers working, and still keep up with what’s going on our television. Lately, I have been working on a scarf for my daughter. I found a picture on Pinterest of a beautiful woman, wearing this warm and pretty, Katniss Everdeen type cowl. My daughter fell in love, and I thought, I could make that for her.
So I went to Michaels, I bought the knitting needles, and the bulky yarn. I was very excited, and got to work fast. I was going and going and was about half way done with my first skein of yarn when I realized that my stitches were completely off. My beautiful scarf was starting to look like a triangle. I had to undo everything and start over again.  I was sad, but I learned a few things, and I started again. I was almost done with my skein, when I realized that I had dropped some stitches, and again, was off. I was so irritated with myself. Again, I had to start from the beginning. I was so paranoid of doing this again, that I would keep double checking how many stitches I had on my needle after almost every row. After getting about 10 rows wrong, I had to undo my work, once again. This time, however, I didn’t have to start from scratch. I was able to see where I started making my mistake, and I was able to go back to that point and move forward.
As I was fixing my mistake, I thought of how often we do these same things in our lives. We make a mistake, try and fix it, and move forward, sometimes more than once. In Luke 7, we learn the story of a woman who washed the Savior’s feet with her tears. She kissed them, and anointed them with oil. The Pharisee Simon was not happy about this, because she was a sinner. The Savior pointed out how much this woman had done, compared to what Simon, his host, had done. She anointed him, she washed his feet, and he had done none of these things. She knew that she had made mistakes, yet it was her desire to be closer to the Savior. And instead of turning her away, he welcomed her. He forgave her.
With every stitch I pulled out of my yarn, I thought of how many times I have committed a sin. Some of them required me to start at the beginning, and some of them I have been able to let go, and move forward from, not having to go back quite so far. And each time I was able to start knitting again, I thought of how the Savior does the same for us. We can repent, and move forward, because of him, and his sacrifice.
I’m still working on my scarf, just like I’m still working on myself. But on Christmas, when I give it to my daughter, I am going to remind her of the reason we are celebrating, and that it is because of him and his sacrifice, we can repent, and start over again. 

Does Charity Really Never Fail?

Found this cute picture here

This week in my scripture reading, I came across Moroni 7:45-47. 45 And charity‍ suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth‍ not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

 46 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail—

 47 But charity‍ is the pure love‍ of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.

I started thinking about charity, and what it means.
Being a member of the church for longer than I haven't, I have had ample opportunities to serve others around me. I realize that as members of the LDS church, we don't have the market on service. But we do belong to a church that really emphasizes service. Wasn't that what the Relief Society was created for? On lds.org, we read under The Purpose of Relief Society "Working in unity with priesthood brethren, we minister to and help those in need with charity, the pure love of Christ. As we do these things, we become  “one” with the Father and the Son." As I was looking up the history of Relief Society, I came across this article "“Something Extraordinary”: The Beginnings of the Relief Society" It says, "Two women, Sarah M. Kimball and Margaret Cook, discussed how they could make clothing for the workmen, and they invited about a dozen women to join them in forming a sewing society. When they told Joseph Smith about their idea, he praised their efforts but told them that the Lord had “something better for them.
On March 17, 1842, Joseph Smith and other priesthood leaders met with 20 women in the upper room of Red Brick Store to organize this “something better.” Eliza R. Snow was elected as secretary of the group, and she and others carefully recorded the proceedings of each meeting in this minute book.
The Relief Society had a much grander vision than other ladies’ societies of the time. More than a social club or a charitable organization, Joseph Smith taught, “the Society is not only to relieve the poor, but to save souls.”"
Today, the Relief Society is one of the larges women's organizations in the world, and one of the first to help whenever it is needed. From natural disasters, to humanitarian needs, to neighborly needs. The sisters in Relief Society are, in my opinion, the front line of the church. How often do we hear about Sister so and so, who just had a baby and needs some help with meals? Who organizes that? The Relief Society sisters. When a family member is lost, who are the first to show up? The sisters. When a new family moves in to the neighborhood, who comes by to say hi first? The sisters. I don't mean just the sisters who attend Relief Society on Sundays. All adults sisters in the ward are a part of the Relief Society. So how can those of us who serve outside of Relief Society serve, and have charity for others?
Now, this is my blog, and my opinion, so I'm just going to tell you what I think. I think we have charity for others by being kind and compassionate. We don't need to sit in Relief Society to do that. Don't get me wrong, I love Relief Society. I love being with the sisters, especially the older sisters. I love hearing their point of view on things, since they have raised their families and 'walked the walk'. I also love hearing about their grandchildren and how much they love them, since that time of my life is fast approaching. Mostly, I love seeing how much they love each other, and how much they love the Lord. Sitting in a meeting and listening to a sister talk about a trial in her life, and how she has come out stronger has helped my testimony more times than I can count.
So what do we do when we can't sit in those meetings? I think we do our best to magnify our callings, and look for opportunities to serve those around us. Sometimes that happens while we are in our current calling. I serve as the Young Women's secretary, and I have had opportunities to serve and have charity for the other sisters in Young Women's. When I was in primary, I was able to serve by watching the other sisters during sharing time, and ask the Lord to show me if anyone needed me. When we take the time to ask the Lord to help us find ways to exercise charity, we will uncover them left and right. And when we live our life in line with the gospel, we can have the spirit with us, to whisper sometimes, "You haven't seen Sister so and so in a while. Maybe you should call or text her." I can honestly say when I have done that, I have blessed just as much, if not more than the people who I serve.

He Hears Me

I went back to school this year, 18 years after I left to have a family with my husband. It has been one of the most wonderful experiences I have had in a long time. I felt as though before this, I was drifting, just coasting along in the gospel. Not really working hard on anything, just going through the motions. Everything changed when I went back to school, and started really studying my scriptures, not just reading them. Things changed when I started getting on my knees to pray, and poured out my heart to the Lord, instead of the rote prayers I had said sporadically. Things changed. I have changed.

The reading this week was Mosiah 27-Alma 7. These are some of my favorite chapters in the Book of Mormon. I can understand Alma the younger, in a way. I remember being a youth, and making choices that would purposely lead away from the gospel. Choices that would purposefully drive away the spirit. Thankfully it didn't take an angel to knock me on my butt and make me repent. Instead, it was a desire to feel happy again. To feel the love of my Heavenly Father, and know I was truly forgiven. As I watched a Mormon Message on YouTube that was part of my lesson, I was reminded of the times I had repented and felt my Father's forgiveness, and His love for me.

This week's assignments have had us learning and reading about the Priesthood, The Family Proclamation to the World, and repentance. Are we like Alma? Not satisfied in just leaving the church of the Lord, but needing instead to drag others with us as we backbite, and complain, and even slander our leaders, "going about to destroy the church of God"? Are we like the sons of Mosiah, going along with the complainers and joining in their mockery of church doctrine? I should ask, are we like the "old" versions of Alma and Mosiah's sons? Or are we like who they become? Are we humbled, and willing to submit to the Lord and ask forgiveness? Are we willing to  "become new creatures" and have our souls "redeemed from the gall of bitterness and bonds of iniquity"?

I think that what touches my heart the most, is knowing that here were young men who were doing everything they could do to bring down the church, and they were still forgiven. They were still able to repent, and fix their mistakes. They were able to admit to others what they had done, and even went among the people, and became "instruments in the hands of  God in bringing many to the knowledge of the truth, yeah, the knowledge of their Redeemer." It wasn't too late for them. And if it wasn't too late for them, it's never too late for any of us.

What's a Mormon Coconut?

Why a coconut? Isn't that racist? Is it racist when you're poking fun at yourself? What if the intent isn't geared towards race, as much as identity? Isn't that kind of the same thing? Am I reading too much in to it? Maybe I should explain why I chose the title Mormon Coconut.

What is a coconut? Unless you live under a rock, you already know what a coconut is. It's hard and brown on the outside, and white and sweet on the inside. Kind of like me. Except I'm not really hard. I'm more squishy. Definitely brown, though. So how am I white on the inside? Let me give you a little background info.

I was born in a city on the East Coast to Puerto Rican parents. When I was a baby, my father joined the military and we moved to the tropical island of Hawaii. We also spent a few years in the very wet state of Washington. When people ask me where I'm from, I always say Hawaii because that's where I spent the majority of my youth. My first day of school was there. My first boyfriend and first kiss were there. Learning how to drive was there. Graduating from High School was there. So, Hawaii is my home. But, I don't really consider myself local, either. If you're from Hawaii, you know what I mean by local. I spent my youth with other military kids, living in military housing, surrounded by men and women in uniform. So, I'm very americanized, and very grateful for our service men and women. I cry at the national anthem, and I always smile when I see people in military uniforms. There's this part of me that wants to run up to them and say, "I'm a military brat. Thank you for your service! God bless America!" But I don't want to scare them, so I just smile and keep walking.

So, being americanized, I am not fluent in Spanish. In fact, I think I'm the only one in my family who doesn't speak it. My 15 year old speaks more Spanish than I do. And I love that! So what does a brown girl from Hawaii who is hispanic but doesn't speak Spanish call herself? A coconut! I hope that clears up the coconut question.

Now to the Mormon part. I am a Mormon. I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I have been a practicing Mormon for 20 years. I'm married to a Mormon and I'm raising my children Mormon. 

So what makes me so different from other Mormon's? Honestly, not much. Except, I am different. Most of the Mormons where I live are White, born in the Mormon faith, and somehow come from Pioneer heritage. I'm not white, and I'm not related to any Mormon Pioneers, except through marriage. A lot of the Mormons here come from big families. I don't. I'm an only child. Most of my friends have "normal" kids. I have 3 beautiful daughters, and a very handsome son with Autism. A lot of my friends my age either had a few kids when they were really young (which I did),  or they just kept having kids. I had 3 kids in the first 5 years of my marriage, and had another one 11 years later. Most of my friends had "normal" pregnancies. I had 2 premies, and for one pregnancy was in the hospital for 6 weeks, but spent 12 weeks on bedrest before that. 

So I don't really feel like the typical Mormon that you find in my neighborhood. But what is typical? If you figure that out, please let me know!