while on our sunday walk this week...

...we found the first dance studio i've seen in belgium. wow is about all i can spit out.

it comes complete with any class imaginable. (except of course the most important form. hello?)

on to the rest of the walk and city square. nothing like a walk on sundays.

i believe in living prophets

Let this story illustrate.

In 1986, one month after being called to serve as an apostle, Elder Ballard was in Bolivia and Peru for conferences. He went to visit Lake Titicaca which is the largest lake in South America. That year the lake rose 10-12 feet in a few short months destroying surrounding farm land. Over 200 LDS members had property destroyed and 40 members lost their homes as a result from the flooding. Elder Ballard and other visiting authorities stood on the shore of the lake to survey the damage. When the other authorities left Elder Ballard had a feeling to bless the land. It wasn't a vision or a voice, just a feeling. Nevertheless he followed it, and called the other authorities telling them to come back to the ground. There, near the lake, Elder Ballard offered a prayer to God and said, "By the authority of the priesthood, I command the water to recede." He returned to his hotel room that night and thought about the prayer. As a new apostle he began to be frightened because there was no where for the water to go. Experts said it would take a couple years for the water level to return to normal. He prayed again and said, "Heavenly Father, maybe i have overstepped my boundaries, but I felt prompted. Grant it to be true." In less than two months he received newspaper clippings in the mail saying, "Lake Titicaca drops an unexplanable 10 feet. It's a miracle."

And one more story about how an ordinary man is purified to be a living prophet.

At the age of 30, Elder Ballard was serving as a bishop over a congregation. One woman in his area was a widow living with her daughter. She and Elder Ballard were close and he even called her his, "Grandma Friend." Late one night after meetings in the chapel Elder Ballard got in his car to drive home. He thought of his grandma friend and felt like he should go visit her. He looked at his watch. It was ten o'clock. "It's too late," he thought, "I'll see her tomorrow." He drove home and attempted to sleep but couldn't stop thinking about her. First thing in the morning he knocked on the door of his grandma friend's home. Her daughter answered, "Oh Bishop. Thank you for coming. Mother passed away two hours ago." He said he stood on the porch and wept. He got back into his car after consoling the family and uttered a humble prayer, "Heavenly father, I will never do that again. I will not argue with you. If you ask me to do something I will do my very best to do it."

After last night, after encouragement, after counsel, after answered prayers, my testimony was fortified that after all I believe in living prophets.

blogging on lunch break

after i declared all that inspiration to about hard work, here i am blogging on lunch break. alas, here is a minute from a momentous night at the killpack home. we needed something fantastic to eat on our new flea market plate so luckily had just the thing.

we tried our first belgian waffles!

pardon the gross pics.

regretfully the weren't from a street vendor(bound to try that soon) but the price=1.20 euro for ten waffles at the local bakery was much more tempting than the street vendor's 3 euro per sweet. don't let the bargain decieve-we were not prepared for how incredible they were. can't wait to get home to a belgain waffle maker and try my hand at mimicking them. in the meantime you'll have to make waffles for me and i'll just eat the storebought sweets:)

ps. i'm blogging on lunch break because tonight you'll remember we are going to listen to a prophets voice to hear the word of god. i'm practically bursting with anticipation.

power of work.

completely irrelevant image from the embassy street in downtown bruxelles

in most recent years i've gone to school and taught dance. school, though a form of work, is not employment and dance can barely count as work cause i love it so. in essence then, this is my first job job. sometimes when i'm counting down the hours til i am off, i am gently reminded of this quote,

“There is not a single condition of life [or] one hour’s experience but what is beneficial to all those who make it their study, and aim to improve upon the experience they gain” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young[1997], 179).

...repeat...NOT A SINGLE HOUR but what is beneficial to those who make it their aim to improve upon the experience they gain! really? after recycling this quote through my mind, counting down the hours does not seem like i'm aiming to improve. work can be sometimes dull, but i've grown to love the time it gives me to think. this quote whips me into shape, turns on my ambition, and focuses my at times flighty brain to improve every SINGLE HOUR. and for the meantime that means going to bed! au revoir.

braderie

translated: rummage sale, clearance sale, discount sale, car boot sale... you get the picture.

the biggest flea market in europe was this weekend in Lille, France. the drive only took ten minutes more than the drive i would make from my utah home to my parents house. i wish i could explain adequately through words or these pics how big this was=6o miles of stalls, selling for 33 hours straight, 100,000 stalls, shoulder to shoulder traffic jams, etc. our non stop walking for seven hours, never on the same street nor touching the tip of the iceburg, was just right for us. out of it all we rummaged: one plate for our collection, sore walking legs, a kebab with calories to last a week, and loads of inspiration. mercy beaucoup!