Be happy cause Jesus loves you.

Oh, you know, just on my way to the Rite Aid down the street, just like any ol' day. It's pretty cold outside, so I'm all bundled up in my coat and have my hands stuffed in my pockets. I'm shivering, of course, because I'm pretty sure it's like a disorder I have or something, how much I shiver and all. I'm standing there waiting for a kagillion years for that orange hand to turn into a blue, florescent person in a walking stance. Quite frankly, I'm thinking about very little. I'm just being.

I see this man walking down the sidewalk out of the corner of my eye. He looks tired, and probably really hungry, and like he hadn't showered in a little too long, and maybe even a little unsure about where his bed was gonna be that night. I didn't think much of him, he was just goin on his way like I was goin on mine. When all the sudden, as he was passing me, he looked at me and he said,

him: "Now don't you go on lookin so depressed now!"
*I jumped SO HIGH when he started talking. Like I probably scared the livin daylights outta the poor guy.*
me: "Oh! Uh, sorry! Yeah, I'm happy!"
him: "Jesus loves you! Jesus loves you so much and you never forget that!! Okay? You never forget that!"
me: "Okay! Yeah, thanks! Yes, He does! Thank you!"
him: "He gave His soul for you on that cross, and you never forget that! You never forget how much He loves you! He loves you so much! Be happy cause Jesus loves you!"
me: "Yes, yes, He does! Thank you!"
him: "You know, I'm Baptist, but I know that Jesus loves you! And I love you!"
*he proceeds to shake my hand vigorously*
him: "I love you so much! And you have a good day!"
me: "Thank you! You have a good day, too!"

To be honest, it was one of the weirder experiences I've had upon coming to Nashville. But even this tired, probably really hungry, not terribly clean, and might be sleepin on a park bench tonight guy… yeah, even he knows what's most important. What's very most important is that "Jesus loves you and that I love you". In the end, it doesn't really matter how much money you got, or how big your wardrobe is, or how smart you seem to the world. All that really matters is that Jesus loves you and I love you. 

"I am Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was ^acrucified for the sins of the world, even as many as will ^bbelieve on my name, that they may become the ^csons of God, even ^done in ^eme as I am ^fone in the Father, as the Father is one in me, that we may be one."
-Doctrine and Covenants 35:2

Not your typical hiking experience...

Sometimes the mountains that we are given just seem way too big. And the fact of the matter is that they ARE too big, if we take them on alone. But if we allow God to help us out, any mountain in our path is a manageable climb. You just gotta make sure you're hikin with an expert.

Someday my stupid tendonitis-ed wrists will get better. Unfortunately, that day isn't day, and most likely won't be tomorrow, and probably won't even be any time this week, and it's a really big mountain for a little girl like me livin on the 7th floor of Hank Ingram House in Nashville, Tennessee to climb.

But God has a plan.
He knows better than me.
And I'm gonna be okay with that.
He'll help me climb up.

Actually, I think He'll have to drag me up because I'm not very strong and I run out of breath pretty easy. My "PUT A SMILE ON THAT FACE!" attitude doesn't last very long sometimes. But, I think He'll let me take water breaks where I'll call my mom and make the missionaries give me another priesthood blessing and eat yet another package of pretzel M&M's (It's a serious addiction. Like, SERIOUS.). Yeah, He'll let me take those breaks. But He'll also reach His arm out after a few minutes and say, "Alright, sista. Let's keep goin." And then someday, well, me and Him, we'll get to the top. And when when we do? I have a feeling there's gonna be one HECK of a view. And I'll be like a kagillion feet higher than I was before, which will be sweet.

So till then, I guess I'm just gonna keep holdin on to God's hand for dear life and do my best to climb up that mountain. Wish me luck?

Besides, I've always liked a good hike.

DON'T JUMP OVER THE FENCE!

When I was in high school, sometimes I felt restricted.
Confined.
"Un-free."

I wanted a later curfew on the weekends.
I wanted to choose what movies I watched.
I wanted to have sleep overs with my girlfriends,
I wanted to be allowed to stay up however late I wanted on... get this... A SCHOOL NIGHT.

And then I got to college.

I can stay out however late I want on the weekends!
My parents don't expect me to text them to ask them if I can watch a given movie.
I live with one of my girlfriends. Slumber party every night!
And ain't no one comin in my room at night saying, "Lights off, please!!"

But you know what?

I still try to go to bed at reasonable hour on the weekends.
I don't watch R-rated movies.
Our slumber parties consist of doing our homework and cleaning our room,
And our lights are out by like 11. Not bad for college, eh?

It doesn't make sense! I should be pulling all nighters every night of the week!! I should be living it UP at college!!

But I learned something at Institute a couple weeks into school that helped this all make sense to me.

When I go to the zoo, I'm grateful for the bars.

When I go to the zoo, I'm grateful  that there are cages, and bars, and signs that say, "DON'T JUMP OVER THE FENCE!" I'm grateful there are zoo keepers that remind me to "Stay behind the rope, please!" And I'm grateful I can enjoy the zoo, despite being surrounded by animals that COULD KILL ME AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT. And, quite frankly, I'd rather not be mauled by a bear.

It's the same in life. In life, I'm grateful for the bars. I'm grateful that I have restrictions, and rules, and people lookin' out for me, whether they by my mother at night telling me to turn lights off, or my Relief Society President asking if I've done my visiting teaching this month. (Which, I totally have, just so you know.) Because, those bars? They're actually not restricting US at all. They restricting the bad, the evil, the extremely dangerous, like you'll realllllly regret jumping over the fence. Because those bars? The enable us to live in the world but not of the world, like Jesus taught us. Because those bars? They're keeping us safe. They're keeping us happy. And, in real life, they're keeping us very, very free.

So, let's decide to not get mauled by a bear, okay? Not at the zoo, and not in life.

UM. EMILY. HELLO.

So, I have what I like to call a stupid wrist and because I have a stupid wrist, I can't play the violin, which is annoying cause THAT'S WHY I'M HERE. But I've learned that God has this tendency to talk to us in lots of different ways even when we have stupid wrists and empty hearts due to such things. Wanna hear an example? Here:

Thursday morning. I wake up at 8:03. Class starts at 8:10. I arrived at 8:09. Please, please, save your applause for later.

Yes, I looked as if I had gotten ran over by a truck on the way to class, but it's fine, cause I was totally on time.

But, even though I was on time, and even though it was a lovely day outside, and even though I was brave enough to ride the elevator, I was still feeling annoyed at frustrated and confused because of my stupid wrist and rough nights and other things that can make my life hard and I felt kind of like this: "I JUST WANT TO GET BACK IN BED BECAUSE MY AWAKENING THIS MORNING WAS FAR TOO ABRUPT."

But then I had a thought. (God's pretty good at putting those in my head when I really need them.) I decided to make two lists. One of things I couldn't change in my life, and things I could change in my life.

(Only MAYBE I was making these lists during class.)

On the first list, I had things like my stupid wrist is being stupid, I couldn't do what I do best, I woke up 7 minutes before class, I looked like that truck that had run over me that morning was actually for real, it was a rough night the night before, I had just gotten a C- on a stupid test, blah, blah blah. Ultimately, I had about 7 or 8 things on that list.

On the second list, though, I couldn't stop writing. I could actually get ready for the day (wait, what?), I could eat breakfast, I could sing out loud (this is real life. no need to make fun.), I could talk to my two very best of friends: Henry and Melissa, I could read my scriptures, I could pray to God, I could dance (also real life.) I could heat up my stupid wrist, I could take medicine for my stupid wrist, the list went on and on and on and on and on. Just a bunch of things that I could change in my life that could make it better.

After class got out at 9:25, I ran upstairs and started to dig into my list. I sang out loud and danced while I got ready for the day. I prayed to God and I walked to the cafeteria to get some breakfast. I sat on a comfy little couch with my strawberries, muffin, and hot chocolate, and pulled out my computer to listen to a conference talk. I listened and I ate and I already felt so much better. Things were already looking a little up.

Quick side note: Once I had written on my list "talk to Henry boy and Melissa", I didn't think much of it, cause I've never actually seen them on Thursday mornings, cause we have different schedules. I was already feeling so much better, I didn't think of that one on my list.

God did, though.

Right as President Holland said, "Amen", I looked to my right and saw Henry walking towards me. He sat down and we talked for a few minutes and my mind didn't even process that God was practically yelling at me that he had been watching over my shoulder in class that morning and was helping me accomplish every last one of my things on my list. We just talked like normal, when all of the sudden, he said, "Hey, look! There's Melissa!" Lo and behold, there's Melissa getting her breakfast. She comes over, and we talk, and my mind still doesn't hear God up there saying, "UM. EMILY. HELLO."

Then, Melissa had to go to class, and Henry had to go to class, and I had to go to physical therapy, and that was that.

It wasn't till, oh, about dinner time that I finally got it. I pictured God sitting on His throne up there laughing and shaking His head saying, "Didn't see that one comin', did ya?"

Nope, I sure didn't. But, boy am I glad that He took the time to remind me through two real live angels that He's there for me and He hasn't forgotten about me, even if I do have a stupid wrist.

He's there. He's watching. He's taking care of us. He showed me through two people who mean the world to me, and He'll show you through whatever makes you smile, even if you have a stupid wrist or you have a rough night or you get a C- on a stupid test like me. I promise it!

"You keep on bein a good girl, you hear me?"

The Vandy Van. Also known as the greatest thing Vanderbilt ever thought of. It's basically just public transportation just for Vanderbilt students that runs between the hours of 5 pm and 5 am every night. For most people, it's so they don't die walking home drunk from the Frats. But for me? So I don't die walking home alone from late night practicing. Sober.

Anyway, last night I jumped on the Vandy Van at, oh 5:30ish, to go do some practicing before I met some friends. I ALMOST MISSED THE BLUE VAN so I had to run super fast. The nice driver, Ms. Stevens, waited for me, and I climbed on, plotted myself on the very first row, and said, huffing and puffing, "Th-- (breath. breath) Thank (cough, breath, cough) you (more coughing and breathing)!!!"

She proceeded to look at me through her little rear view mirror and said to me, in her thick, Southern, black woman accent (the best kind, btw),

"I've NEVER seen you before!! Do you have an ID??"
"Yes, ma'am!" (and then I showed her my lovely student ID)
"Well! I have never seen you before!! I have worked here 13 years and I have never seen you before!"
"Well, I mean, I am a freshman!"
"I know, but I know ALL of the freshman. (just so you know, there are 1600 of us....) I'm the famous vandy van driver, Ms. Stevens. You've probably heard of me before."
PAUSE. Please keep reading this in your best thick, Southern, black woman accent. It makes it way better.
CONTINUE.
"Oh, yes, ma'am! I've heard of you before! You're the one who pulls over to the side of the road to pick up drunk students lyin on the side of the road in the middle of the night!"
"Yeah, you better believe that's me!! I have never seen you before!!"
"Well, I don't drink, you see, and I ain't on the bus, drunk, in the middle of the night, after comin from the Frats."
"You don't drink?? Oh, you are a rare breed!! I am SO glad I met you!! You stay that way!! I am SO glad I met you!! You know, I raised triplets, and they were always studious in college, and they never drank none either. You know, they're all dentists in California now. That's why I have white teeth. And you know, they's the best kids. Oh, they're my pride and joy!! I love those kids with all my heart! And, you know, they's rollin in the DOUGH over their in California, them bein dentists and all. Oh, they's just the best kids!!
"Well, you know, Ms. Stevens, you raised 'em!! You musta raised 'em pretty good if they turned out so good!"
"Me and my husband, we put our ALL into those kids! They told us when they were 8 years old they wanted to be dentists and we put our ALL in helpin them be just that. We taught them how to clean up, and everything! We raised them from the ground up, those kids. And you know, I tell them, that when they do their dentistry over there in California, they needa give their services to people who can't afford none, cause you know, we gotta give back in our world. We need help those that can't help themselves none! It's our responsibility!!"
"Well, Ms. Stevens, I think you're doin just that when you help poor drunk kids on the side of the road! You're helpin them out when they can't help themselves!!"
"You know, when I see them out there, I think 'That is someone's child out there!!' And then I go and help them, cause, you know, I love my kids with all my heart! And, you know, I go through 8 pairs of tennis shoes a year because of those kids pukin' up all over 'em when I try to help them get in the van! But, it's worth it, cause I's gettin those kids home safe."
"Ms. Stevens, that is so good of you! You're helpin those kids so much!"
*then we got to my stop*
"What's your name again? I have never seen you before!! I am so glad I met you! You made my night! I hope I see you again! You keep on bein a good girl, you hear me? And you don't drink none and you be safe, you hear me?"
"I'm Emily! And yes, ma'am! Thank you, ma'am! You have a good night!"

I seriously couldn't stop smiling. Guys, there are good people everywhere. People that will sacrifice 8 pairs of tennis shoes a year. People that'll drag drunk 19 year-olds into their van so they get home safe. There are good people everywhere. And you know what else? You don't gotta do much to share what you believe in. All you gotta do is live it. And people will notice. She noticed my decision not to drink, simply because I don't drink. I noticed her amazing spirit, simply because of how she spends her weekends: drivin the Vandy Vans.

Don't underestimate the power of example. People are watching.
And always, always, always, believe in good people everywhere.

It's story time, ladies and gentlemen.

Here I am, yes, just 6 days after my most recent post. Better than a month, eh? S/O to Henry boy for tellin me to write tonight.

I would like to tell y'all a story. I vividly remember the day when my Mom, my little sister, Caroline, and I were at Kohler's grocery store. Yes, once upon a time, it was called Kohler's, not Ridleys. Anyway, I remember this one day we were going to do our shopping, and right as we walked in the doors on the right hand side of the store, my mom asked Caroline and I what we wanted to be when we grew up. My response?

A cowgirl.

The Strawberry Day's rodeo. Remember? Pleasant Grove City put on the Strawberry Day's rodeo every year and I remember going when I was, oh, probably about 7 years old, and looking at the trees and the sky behind the rodeo grounds and telling my Dad that they looked like a picture, not real life. They looked so still and I thought for sure the whole scene was one giant photograph. And I remember eating bowl after bowl of Strawberries and cream and wondering what could be better in the world. And then I remember the girls on the horses. Oh, the girls on the horses! They had their hats and their boots and their flags! They rode around and around the circle on their horses carrying their flags. And that was the moment I decided that I was destined to become a cowgirl.

11 years later, here I am at Vanderbilt University studying Violin Performance at the Blair School of Music. I spend a good 14 hours a day at Blair, practicing for, I dunno, 6 or 7 of those hours, taking classes for 3 of them, and studying/eating my meals/accidentally (or not accidentally) falling asleep on the actually quite comfortable benches on the second floor. Or just the floor of my practice room, whatever is closest.

So basically my whole 7 year old fantasy of becoming a cowgirl is gone, right? Disappeared. Vanished. Completely extinct.

FALSE.

May I present to you... (drum roll please)....

MY COWGIRL BOOTS.

I, Emily Richards, have OFFICIALLY fulfilled my life long, or at least since-I-was-like-7-years-old long, dream of becoming a cowgirl. 

(No, I don't ride horses. No, I don't carry flags around circles at rodeos. And, NO, I don't fiddle. But, I have my boots and that is most definitely enough to make it official.)

But for real, those are my boots on my feet. And they're genuine leather and they smell like it, too. And I'm wearing them home on the plane ride tomorrow, which is terribly exciting. 

Also, I have another story. Who's ready? Anyone remember story time in the second grade? And everyone racing for the front row of the story time carpet? Well, race, my little kiddies, cause it's story time. 

Mom pulls me into the living room at the beginning of the summer to ask me a question. She sits me down and says, "Do you really wanna do Salute to Youth or not? Cause it's gonna be a lot of work, especially with two auditions, but I know you can do really well if you decide to put the work in. It's up to you."

And I was like, yeah, I wanna do it. 

But, my insides were like, "WHAT are you getting yourself INTO?! This is your LAST SUMMER AS A CHILD. You need to enjoy it and be lazy like kids right out of high school are supposed to do. You need to get 8 snow cones every day and stay out late every night of the week and go to Peaks 4 days of the week and Lagoon at LEAST twice a week, and if you can fit it in, MAYBE practice. You need to have FUN!"

But instead I was like, yeah, I wanna do it. 

And, I really did. I was terrified, though, cause Salute to Youth is such a long shot, and so many kids audition for just 6 maybe 7 spots on the concert to perform with the Utah Symphony. And I would have to make 2 solid recordings, one by myself, and one with my trio and I absolutely HATE recordings. And then, if I made the first cut, I would have to go out onstage twice for 2 nerve racking auditions. Not to mention the double amount of hours I would have to put in for 2 auditions and driving to and from Salt Lake a million times a week and the never ending coachings and lessons and rehearsals and never, ever, ever stopping. 

But even with all these thoughts, I was like, yeah, I wanna do it. 

So, that day, I told my insides to ZIP IT because I was in for one HECK of a summer. And every day I decided to do my best and every day I prayed a million prayers and every day I did stupid, slow intonation work, which really isn't stupid, it's really quite effective. And every day I practiced as much as I could and every day I woke up as early as my little body would let me to get stuff done. And every day I would try to eat healthy so I could have as much energy as I could and every day I would try and try and try. And every day I reminded myself that even if I didn't win and even if I got cut after the first round, and even if I lost my last chance to perform in front of the UTAH SYMPHONY, that I was going to do it, cause it's what felt right and it's what I needed, for one reason or another, to do.

Don't worry, that's not the end of the story, but in reality, it kind of is, because that? That was the best part of all. The "HEAVENLY FATHER. I CAN'T PRACTICE TODAY. HELP MEEEEEE"'s. And the carrots. You know, carrots may give you energy and all, but they're so bland. And the the drone of my tuner yelling at me to PLAY THAT STUPID D IN TUNE. Cliche, I know, but I'm a different person after this summer. I still remember sitting on the couch next to my Dad the night before live auditions and tellin him, "Dad, it's okay if I don't win, cause this process has been the best thing. I've learned so much. Tomorrow is just the icing on the cake." And, it's true. 

It's about the little moments. The millions of little moments. It ain't about winning. It's about the process, the journey, the adventure. So, as Matthew would say, "Words of Wisdom from Emily!!" (in a completely sarcastic tone of voice, might I add. He secretly loves my deep thoughts, he's just too intimidated to admit it, that's all.) I would say to make the process count. Try as hard as your little heart will let you every day. Give it your all. You will feel the rewards in your heart and you'll see it all around you.

I promise it. 

P.S. To finish the end of the story, my trio and I won and y'all should come hear us perform the first movement of the Beethoven Triple Concerto with the Utah Symphony on Tuesday, October 1st, at Abravanel Hall in downtown SLC. Also, I couldn't be more excited. It's some seriously good tasting icing, let me tell ya.

Peace.

Welcome to Nashville, y'all::

I am absolutely the worst "blog updater" that ever was. I'm determined to be better.

Where do I begin?? I've been in Nashville for one month and 6 days. It feels like I've been here a year, but at the same time, I feel like I arrived yesterday. Nashville is the place for me, and I feel like God has prepared me for 18 years to claim my little spot in the Music City of the country. I love this place with all my heart. As in, the WHOLE thing.

I came here to Nashville to study Violin Performance with the one and only Connie Heard. Also known as the most loving, nurturing, yet the most "I expect you to have learned all of the violin repertoire you've ever heard of, including all etudes and caprices, by your next lesson. Which is tomorrow."-esque person in the world. She expects a lot, let me tell ya. But you'll never know how far you can go, unless you push the limits. She's pushin, but I'm pushin, too, and I'm getting better, and that the greatest news of all. Not only a better violinist, but a better musician. Not only a better musician, but a better student. Not only a better student, but a better friend, a better listener, a better worker, a better daughter, a better sister, a better disciple, a better everything. This whole music business is teachin me a lot. It's also teaching me that I love violin, and music, more than I ever knew. This is me. I love the violin. Guys, I LOVE the violin.

So, I came for violin, right? Right, but I'm one of 5 people in the class of 2017 that did. Let me tell you what the rest of 'em came for.

So, Vanderbilt. Vanderbilt is ranked #17 on "National University Rankings" and is also known as the Harvard of the South. The average ACT score of kids coming to Vanderbilt is a 34. As in, you miss like 5 questions on the ENTIRE TEST. Let me tell you a secret. I did NOT score a 34 on the ACT. Conversations between other students and me go a little something like this:

Me: So what are you studying?
The Average Joe of Vanderbilt: Oh, I'm double majoring in NeuroScience and BioChemical Engineering with an emphasis in Mathematics with a double minor in Education Studies of the Early 1800's in Great Britain and Cello Performance along with being on the Pre-Med track. I'm also on a football scholarship. What about you?
Me: Um. I play the violin.
My good friend Joe: .....................oh! Cool!

Okay, okay. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration. But I'm telling you, it's SLIGHT. These people are insane. We'll put it this way. I came for the violin program. They came for the Top 20 school. I came for my lovely violin teacher. They came for the Harvard of the South.

So basically, I'm a little..... well.... different. Not to mention I'm 5'2'', white, from Utah, and Mormon. (wait. so you, like, don't drink ANY coffee? welll... nope. nope, i don't.)

So, yeah, I may be the minority in more ways than 1. Or in more ways than 800. Either works. But honestly, it's kind of the best thing. People notice the minority. They ask questions. They ask why I'm here for music. They ask if I fiddle (UM. NO.). They ask if I'm going out to party this weekend on Frat Row. When they hear my response, they ask, "Why not?!?!" They ask where the "Mormon Community" is. They ask why I go to the temple with my YSA branch. They ask why I don't drink coffee, they ask why I don't cuss every time I miss a note in orchestra, or stub my toe on the sidewalk. They ask, and ask, and ask, and I tell, and tell, and tell. You know, I heard a little while ago, "The best way to share the gospel is to live it."And I, a little 5'2'', white, Mormon girl from Utah, can boldly attest to that. People notice the peculiarity of this whole Mormon thing, and the best part is? They respect, admire, and commend it.

....which leads me to my next point. Church. "I may be small but wherever I go, the grass grows greener still." Yes, that is the Church in Nashville. We're small, but we're strong. We're a little family. My testimony, and forgive this terribly cheesy analogy, was a tiny little sprout when I left for college, and now it's a flower blossoming into life!! Okay, that was way cheesier than necessary, but I'm bein serious. My testimony is flourishing here. Every time I read my scriptures, or say a prayer, or go to church, or go to institute, or tell someone about Jesus, or decide to follow the Spirit, I literally feel inside of me an anchor getting a little more grounded. I feel myself being devoted more fully to God and His work and I feel like I'm one tiny, little step, yet a step nonetheless, to the celestial kingdom. Like I said, the church is small here. When it's small, you're big. And when you're big, you're not only what YOU depend on, but you're what a lot of people depend on. People look to you to help 'em out, to be an example, to be a witness of Christ. And that's really what it's all about: helpin other people get to Christ. Whether they be the kid in your music theory class, or your visiting teachee, YOU are HERE to HELP CHRIST TELL EVERYONE ABOUT HIM. Kind of cool, right? Right.

Sadly, there are lots of people that don't know about Christ, or just plain don't like Him, but whoever they are, it doesn't really matter, cause in the end, they're a lot like you. They're just tryin to do this whole "life" thing, too. So you keep bein Christ's little helper, and they'll keep doin whatever they do and y'all just love each other for what each other is worth. Which is a lot. Once you decide to love everyone despite differences, man, you find a lot of great people.

Lots of those great people I like to call my friends here at Vanderbilt. I'm meeting some of the greatest people here, guys. People like Liz, and Haley, and Mary Grace, and Henry boy, and Matthew, and Ben, and Melissa, and Allie, and Han, and Imani. Every single one of 'em knows something I don't. And every single one of 'em can share with me something that can change me. Every single person you come in contact with can have an impact if you let them. I love my people here.

At college, this is what I do. I wake up. I try to get up early every day, but sometimes it's all I can do to grab the banana on my desk and chuck it at my alarm clock hoping it pushes snooze to give me a few extra minutes of sleep. And yes this really did happen, and yes it totally worked. Boo yeah!! Anyway, I wake up, I go through my morning routine, I got to the music school, I practice, I go to class, I practice, I study in one of my two favorite spots in the music library, I practice, I eat lunch, I got to chamber, I go to orchestra, I practice a little bit more, I eat dinner, I study a little bit more, I go through my nightly routine, I crawl (literally. crawl.) into bed and I'm asleep in approximately .7 seconds. This is college life as a violin performance major, and I couldn't be happier.

I couldn't be happier. (Unless, of course, I could live 100% on M&M's, but unfortunately, that's not the case, so I just try to deal.) The college life suits me well.

There ain't nowhere I'd rather be. Till next time, y'all.

(p.s. I just ordered cowgirl boots yesterday. also know as, I'm the happiest girl in the whole world.)