truth – all our lemmony things

Everything you’re not: And why it keeps getting in the way

Published on June 20, 2014August 5, 2014 by Kayla Scofield14 Comments

I believe in the power of words.

Very, very much so.

All my life it’s been one of my strongest beliefs along with one of my greatest loves.

Maybe it started back when I finished my first Steinbeck novel and felt like somewhere deep inside of me, the fictional characters had changed me. Or when I first watched Martin Luther King Jr. give a speech with eyes of fire and a voice that quivered with raw emotion. Maybe it was the first time I was made fun of for my weight back in middle school and those words made me wrap a sweatshirt around my waist for a week afterward. Or perhaps it was the time when I was struggling with math homework and my Dad simply said, “You are SO smart, Kayla!” And I aced the assignment like no one’s business.

Honestly, who knows? It could have been a multitude of things. But I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t completely aware of the strength of words and how the spoken–or written–word can literally change things and create things. But with that said, being aware of something doesn’t mean I’m always on top of my game with it. In fact, it’s a struggle for me.

And it might be for you.

From what I’ve seen, it’s one of humanity’s greatest struggles and greatest downfalls.

By nature I can be slightly *depending on the day*– cynical. And it can be a little too easy for me to slip into negativity. You wouldn’t know it by knowing me that I deliberately say “It’s going to be a good day” every morning that I step into the bathroom to get ready to combat pesky worries, stresses, and the never-ending to-do list. I often write lists that count my blessings and say things I don’t quite believe at the time but WANT to believe, so I’ll say it anyway and build faith in it. I consciously have to work at staying positive when the day looks like anything but.

I’m not saying my life is horrible because it certainly isn’t in the least bit. But perspective is everything. And it’s something that I–and I feel so many others– are lacking at times when the winds start to blow and the negative thoughts attack us about our bodies, our finances, our families, our work, our faith.

There’s power in words–so why do we use choose to use them so loosely?

One of my district managers sat down beside me at a company dinner the other night and said something that really made me self-reflect. “We live in a world where we constantly say what things aren’t,” he said. “We talk about everything we’re not even when we don’t mean to. The way we word things, even random sentences, are often so negatively worded, and believe it or not it has a negative effect on our attitudes, our relationships–our entire life.”

It couldn’t be more true. Since talking to him I’ve really noticed how prevalent it is.

How many times do we hear “Not bad” when someone could say “I’m great!” instead. How many times do we say, “I don’t want to fail” instead of “I want to succeed”, or “I don’t think it’ll work” instead of “Who knows? This might work”. Our sentences in today’s culture and world are straying from the affirmative and becoming a wash of reminders of everything that hasn’t happened, everything that we don’t have, everything that we aren’t. We constantly measure ourselves against expectations in our minds, magazine spreads, fears, insecurities stirred by the negativity of others, and those around us who happen to measure us right back. But why do we do it?

Because we forget who we are.

We forget the power we hold in our minds and in our words. We forget we’re powerful beings who can create our lives–or ultimately destroy them.

The words you speak, I once heard someone say, become the house you live in.

And too often, I think, our houses crumble.

“Write,” my grandma used to say when I would scribble stories in my notebook, my short legs not hitting the floor quite yet. “Write beautiful words so you can create beautiful new worlds to go to.”

Now looking back on that I realize the truth of those words can go a step further even.

Write. Or sing. Or speak aloud beautiful words so you can then create your beautiful world.

It really is that easy.

It really does matter where you come from

Published on January 15, 2014January 15, 2014 by Kayla Scofield4 Comments

I read a little sign hanging in a window just the other day that really got me thinking.

It simply asked, “Can you remember who you were before the world told you who you should be?” If my research serves me correctly, that’s a quote from Danielle LaPorte.

I’ve been thinking about that question a lot lately.

Maybe it’s because just this last Sunday my baby nephew had his baby blessing during church service. With heads bowed we joined in prayer as his Daddy blessed him.

Dressed in an adorable white little outfit and looking out at us with wide blue eyes, the quote came to me once more. Simply because my nephew had just come from God’s presence. He had no biases, no strong opinions on worldly matters. He had no conditioned ideas of himself brought on by teasing classmates or snide co-workers yet. He hadn’t yet looked in the mirror, making assumptions about what people saw. He’s new. Untouched by the world–and untaught by it.

But in time, he’ll grow. Just like we all do. And that’s definitely not a bad thing.

It wasn’t Heavenly Father’s plan to keep us in a tiny shell, unable to form words or beliefs. It’s His plan for us to grow, hit bumps in the road that bruise our knees, possibly grow so old until we wrinkle and smile without teeth, and to find joy in relationships that come along, and in hard work and sacrifice. And it’s also His plan for us to slowly remember who we are again and where we come from as we turn our minds to Him, so the giant circle can be completed and we can return to where my baby nephew just came from.

Too many times I want to forget the past because it’s painful. Because *I know this all too well* I messed up. I fall into the thinking of, ‘Well, it doesn’t really matter about then, it only matters who I am now.’ But if I take it back even further than that–I won’t find mistakes or missed curfews or those awkward middle school haircuts *yeesh* or those heartbreaking teenage years–if I take it back far enough, I’ll remember my divine heritage. I’ll remember I’m a daughter of a King and that I was sent here at a very particular time to fulfill my callings. It really DOES matter where I come from.

Because the world will tell you it doesn’t.

The world, just like it will to my nephew eventually, will tell you that you shouldn’t be an artist because artists don’t make enough money. The world will tell you you’re fat when you see the stretch marks across your stomach that gave you your children. The world will tell you that you’re a nerd just because you’re extremely good with computers. It’ll tell you that you’re not very good at making friends so it’s better to just sit alone. It’ll tell you that with all the mistakes you’ve made, there’s no coming back now.

The world will lie.

I think back to days like these–this was my third grade class. (I’m the one with the thick brown bangs and my hands up…I know. Yikes.)

We grew up together and eventually graduated together. I think back to the innocence that didn’t sort us into groups of “cool” “uncool” “smart” or “awkward”. It was a time when we didn’t let the world whisper into our ears and teach us about what makes someone pretty or successful or worth listening to. We were just kids–who somehow, deep inside–still remembered our divine worth.

And I think we can still remember now, even neck-deep in the sludge of words and scars and perceptions and false lessons. We get glimpses when we read our scriptures or fall on our knees to pray or hold our children. We have glimpses of memory that sustain us.

And I think that once we get a good grasp *even if it’s simply by faith* on where we’ve come from and who we really truly are–that’s when we’ll remember where we’re going.

And at that point–the world won’t be able to teach you any different.

“I left Christianity because of the people”

Published on January 11, 2014January 11, 2014 by Kayla Scofield38 Comments

“I left Christianity because of the people.”

The words hurt my heart yesterday as I chatted with a good friend of mine. We were discussing religion. God. People. Mainstream Christianity. Topics that went hand in hand with some e-mails I sifted through while I sat on my break. One email in particular stuck out to me and I shared it with him.

I won’t quote it word for word or tell you who wrote this email (Totally not my style). And I hate giving attention to negativity–but this one, in turn, made me seek for the positive. *That’s “worth-sharing” material in my book*

The long winded email elaborately stated that I’m not a Christian because I don’t read the Bible. He told me Mormons go to Hell. It stated that I’m confused and hurting over the loss of a parent because I’m not a Christian and God isn’t on my side. BUT, *they kindly interjected* if I confess my sins and look for a different church, THEN I’ll be saved.

When I read this yesterday, I couldn’t help but share some of it with my friend. And that’s when he told me, straight out, “I left Christianity because of the people.”

Now, bear in mind, my friend *We’ll call him Dan* is probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. He’s hilarious. He talks about his wife as if she’s made of gold. He works hard every single day. And without saying it, he certainly shows that he believes that kindness matters. So this was a side of Dan I hadn’t seen before as we discussed religion. I never knew that he used to be an active church member, in love with the word of God and over-scheduled with church events. I never knew that people–like the one who sent me that email–taught him a whole different lesson about Christianity.

So–how could I NOT write about it??

Sitting there with Dan and hearing his story, I rewinded five years back to before I joined the LDS church.

I was what you would call a church floater for a time, bouncing around from one non-denominational church to another, joining different congregations and getting baptized into several different fonts. I floated–never really finding answers to all of my questions–yet settling down in a Pentecostal church until I was 18 and *had* to leave. I just couldn’t stay anymore. It wasn’t anything personal–it was just I really needed to find truth and answers to my nagging questions. Needless to say, through a friend, two missionaries, and 7 sleepless nights reading an old copy of The Book of Mormon, I found the light I’d been craving all along.

Now, five years later, one BYU-Idaho education later, a hundred missionary opportunities later, a dozen temple trips later–I don’t hesitate to still call myself a Christian. Oh–and I sure don’t let dust collect on my Bible either.

I am a Mormon and I am Christian.

I strive to be the kind of Christian that people like Dan feel comfortable talking to. The kind of Christian who doesn’t cut into this story and tell him to get his hiney back to church or he’ll face hellfire. The kind of Christian who has about five gay friends who *know* I’m Mormon and actually love it. The kind of Christian who goes to church because it’s a hospital for the sick, not a temple of the proud. The kind of Christian who shares a testimony of Christ simply because I *love* people–not because I love how much I know.

I strive to be the kind of Christian who continues to adore people of varying faiths and different cultures–enjoying the unique perspectives and different acts of love and worship. I strive to be the kind of Christian who puts kindness before “being right” and love before condemnation. I strive to be the kind of Christian who doesn’t throw scripture in someone’s face, yelling out random verses to prove I’m a “scriptorian”, but to embrace scripture and try to live it to the best of my ability. I strive to be like so many of you reading this now–of all different faiths and backgrounds–who simply have it nailed on the head on how to love, how to serve, and how to emulate the Savior’s example.

Yes, you choose to be offended. You can read a talk about that right here.

BUT you can also choose to be offensive. To be brash. To be hurtful. To use your status as a Christian to raise yourself up above everyone else and look down with haughty eyes. You can choose. (There’s a talk about that too! Right here)

Don’t be the reason someone leaves Christianity. Don’t be the reason someone feels like the outcast in your world.

Instead, choose to be more like Him every day.

I found that when I choose that, I can honestly set aside pride and the need to be “right” or “heard”, and in turn–more people will listen to what I believe and even if they don’t believe the same thing–well, at least they feel God’s love in the process.

Because LOVE is what being a Christian is all about.

THAT, you might say, is my religion.