These pictures of me were taken one year apart. One on Saturday, August 15, 2020, in Houston, Texas, at 2:35 PM. The other on Sunday, August 15, 2021, in Maricopa, Arizona, also at 2:35 PM. Looking at them both now, you can't see much of a difference. You can tell I'm outside instead of inside, you can tell I'm wearing a different dress, and that I'm maybe a little older....but that's about it! What you can't tell is the story that transpired between these two pictures. What you can't tell is all that awaited the innocent, unknowing me in 2020, and all that the current me has overcome in this past year through my Savior.
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Some of you may know what I am referring to. Tomorrow is my one year anniversary since the attack. It's been called my "undead day," my "re-birthday," the "day of miracles," the "day of protection," and so many other things. As you can imagine, my heart is overflowing with thoughts and emotions, and I can't wait to share many of the stories and miracles from this past year with you all tomorrow.
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However, as I got ready this morning, I couldn't help but also stop to appreciate the significance of today. August 15th was, for a long time and maybe forever, the last day of my "normal." It was the last day with no trauma. The last day with no scars. The last day of being a normal teenager with a normal body serving as a normal missionary. It was my last day serving in the Texas Houston Mission. I went to bed on August 15th completely naive to how that night would change my life forever.
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Now I do, and will always, have scars--mentally and physically. Now I did, and will always, have experienced attempted murder. Now I am, and will always be, a trauma survivor. I used to look at this picture of myself on August 15th and feel a sort of longing in my soul. To me, it represented what was and could never be again. The innocent, the unbroken, the unexpecting.
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And it's true that me on this August 15th is different than the me on the last, but it's not because I can never be who I once was. It's because I'm everything I was in that blue dress and so much more. It's because I learned once that Jesus Christ doesn't just heal. He restores.
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For the longest time after the attack, I clung to the idea that Jesus was the Master Healer. That He really COULD bind up my wounds, help me walk, remove my pain. But inside I was still struggling to accept the change. Even if the wounds were sealed..... scars would still remain. Even if I could walk again, I'd never have the same endurance as before. Even if my pain went away, it could still come back again.
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And then one day the Spirit spoke to me and said, "Jesus is not just the Master Healer. He is the Restorer." He doesn't just bind up our wounds but gives us the same perfect peace we had before the injury with a greater peace in Him because of them! He doesn't just repair us until we're good enough to stand alone; He brings us back to the same strength we had before and then adds His strength to it! He doesn't just help us fix the current pain but gives us the same relief we enjoyed previously with a greater capacity to withstand in the future!
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As I look back after one year now, I can truly say that Jesus Christ has not only healed, but restored me. I have learned in the most powerful way that there is no man nor force on this earth that possesses the power to take from us what God has bestowed. Christ has brought back everything that was lost. I am back doing what I was a year ago, serving in His wondrous work as His representative, with all the joy and strength I had before, but a more perfect hope in Him because of what I've been through. I am so grateful for all that was taken from me. Because Christ has restored it all to me again, along with more than I could ever imagine 
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Sleep tight tonight, everyone! See you all tomorrow
To explain the above testimony:
August 16th, 2020. Do you remember where you were that day? Where did you wake up? Who were you with? What plans had you made? No matter how long I live, in this life or the next, I will never forget what happened on August 16th for me. Needless to say, I have been anticipating this anniversary and this post for a very long time. I have spent many hours pondering what I could possibly share to express the love and gratitude overflowing from my heart and all the miracles that Heavenly Father has shown me this past year. It is my earnest hope that everything I experienced on this day a year ago and every day following may be shared here in a way that shows the goodness and mercy of Heavenly Father, the love and power of Jesus Christ. They saved my soul in a sacred garden thousands of years before my birth and again in a dank apartment just north of Houston, Texas, exactly one year ago today. I am Theirs, and my soul purpose for now and for eternity is to testify of Them.
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Many of you reading this know the event which I am referring to. Many of you already know about what happened, but I would bargain to say that most of you reading this right now know little about what ACTUALLY happened. The miracles, the emotions, the continuing struggles. It's true-- it all started with the stabbing. On August 16th, 2020 at 4 am I was in my apartment in Houston, Texas, with my companion. We had great plans for the following day like our church service and teaching appointments with six or seven families. I remember going to bed so excited about how successful of a day we had lined up. But that all changed when, on August 16th, I woke up to screaming and an unfamiliar figure above my bed. I woke up to a fight, a struggle of life or death that would last about 15 minutes. Grappling, screaming, slashing, praying. I woke up to the potential of death. I received 9 stab wounds in the fight: one in my shoulder that pierced my lungs, one in my elbow, one on both sides of my hand, one in my side, two in my thigh, and one through both sides of my calf. We called 911 and they came and rushed us to the hospital. I called my president to come give me a life saving blessing. I called my parents to get their opinion on the surgery. They operated for six hours, and I then spent eight days in my home away from home--Houston HCA Northwest hospital--relearning how to eat, sit up, walk, etc. I was then in recovery for five months with constant physical therapy and hospital trips. We used to fill up a whole little garbage can just redressing my wounds each morning 
. After what seemed like forever, I received a phone call in Walmart two days before Christmas, informing me that I had once again been called to serve as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ, and that I would finish my labor in the Arizona Tempe Mission
. After what seemed like forever, I received a phone call in Walmart two days before Christmas, informing me that I had once again been called to serve as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ, and that I would finish my labor in the Arizona Tempe Mission.
But my journey doesn't end there. I haven't shared the continuing story with many, but my story hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows. About five months ago, I started having a lot of returning health problems, specifically with my ability to eat. I began to get extremely nauseous almost 24/7, and eating became very difficult, and sometimes impossible, for me. I often can't sleep or work because the nausea and the pain is so bad. I have had a plethora of medical exams, tests, CT scans, xrays, and other things to try and figure out the problem. They assume it was caused by the stab wound in my intestines, but as of right now, there are no answers and it is something I still struggle with to this day.
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Now please understand, I don't share any of this to be pitied for my pain or praised for the perseverance. I have shared this with very few people because, when all is said and done, I consider myself the luckiest and most blessed soul on the planet to have gone through what I have and to have escaped with such FEW problems. And I am a missionary! I'm part of the greatest work in the world!! How could I be anything BUT happy?!
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But I feel impressed to share these recent experiences with you all now because they are the context that explains just how miraculous the Lord has been in my life this past year. They show that the stabbing was only the beginning of the miracle. Christ didn't just show up for five minutes to fight my battle and then retreat to His comfortable throne to observe my recovery. He has NEVER LEFT MY SIDE! Not when I left that apartment on the stretcher. Not when I left the hospital. Not when I left the THM. And not when I was healed enough to leave my home and return to service. What has REALLY built my faith in His infinite mercy and goodness is His hand in everything that has followed the attack. In the OVERWHELMING and CONSTANT love that He has shown me through each of you!!
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For me, it's all about moments. The indescribable connection I felt when a man, bent on my death, held me to the ground, but I screamed Heavenly Father's name as loud as I could and knew that He heard me. The comfort when I turned on a light for the first time after the fight and saw the world as it really was. The vision that filled my heart when I saw the stab wound through my palm and instantly felt my Savior there. The absolute wave of relief when I saw a handful of fully armed policemen crowd the scene and I knew that everything would be alright.
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And then there's other moments like when my mission president placed his hands on my frail and broken body and pronounced a blessing of peace. Or when I first semi-consciously recognized my parents as they rushed into my hospital room. And when I left the THM and was surprised with a parade from my ward and mission to see me off. Or how speechless I was when I received another parade from my ward and family in my neighborhood upon my homecoming.
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All of these moments in this past year, and so many more, have sustained me through the infinite love of Jesus Christ, expressed in each of you. But as I got ready yesterday, I realized that each of these moments are made up of little things. The things like being able to roll over in bed or cough without searing pain. The little things like fingers that can curl my hair or put on mascara. Things like how I can balance on one foot now, step up onto a curb, put on my own shirt, swallow a sip of water, wiggle my toes.
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There are more moments, memories, lessons, and experiences in this last year that have testified to me of the absolutely eternal goodness and love of our Heavenly Father and our Savior, Jesus Christ, than I could ever possibly share. But seriously, just take my word for it. GOD IS SO GOOD!!!!! He knows us, He saves us, He lifts us, He fills us! I am ONLY standing here today, alive, breathing, and absolutely beaming with joy because of HIM! It is ALL because. of. HIM.
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In the hospital a few days after the attack, one of my cousins texted my mom with a question to ask me: "What is your favorite name for Jesus Christ?" Because of the pain and circumstances of the moment, I am just now realizing that I don't know if I ever gave her a good response to that question But even if I tried to answer her question now, I couldn't. Each one of these moments for me was so sacred because it represented a different role and a different hole that Jesus Christ was filling in my life. But because it has been a year, I think I owe my cousin something;) So, to commemorate these twelve months of miracles, for the next twelve days I am going to share the twelve roles of Jesus Christ that have had the greatest influence on me this last year. I will also share the stories and miracles of healing that brought me to the testimony of each of His mighty, miraculous names. I hope that each of you will join me in this celebration of our Redeemer and reflect on the miraculous moments that He has bestowed to make you who you are today
(the posts will be on here and on my page, The Work of His Hands. See link below:)
But even if I tried to answer her question now, I couldn't. Each one of these moments for me was so sacred because it represented a different role and a different hole that Jesus Christ was filling in my life. But because it has been a year, I think I owe my cousin something;) So, to commemorate these twelve months of miracles, for the next twelve days I am going to share the twelve roles of Jesus Christ that have had the greatest influence on me this last year. I will also share the stories and miracles of healing that brought me to the testimony of each of His mighty, miraculous names. I hope that each of you will join me in this celebration of our Redeemer and reflect on the miraculous moments that He has bestowed to make you who you are today (the posts will be on here and on my page, The Work of His Hands. See link below:).
Thank you all, each and everyone, for remembering me on this re-birthday and for helping me remember my Life-giver. Christ gave me my life once through His atoning sacrifice and baptism in His church. That potential of salvation is more than I could ever thank Him for, in this life or the next. But this re-birthday has been truly special for me because, one year ago today could have been the end. I could have died. He saved me once, He didn't have to do it again. But the thing is--He is Jesus. So He DID. He did save me again. He gave my life back to me. It has been bought, it is His. The only question that remains for me and for each of us is WHY? And what are we going to do about it?
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Now, more than ever, I know that I owe my life to the Lord! Now, more than ever, I know that I can do nothing but give every breath testifying of Him and His infinite goodness and love! My only purpose, now and forever, is to testify of my Life Saver and spread His good news to all the world! That He can save your life, too! That in Him you, me, and we all, can be reborn! As I look back, I can say with confidence that i am SO GRATEFUL I was stabbed. There is not a single thing in this year I would change. We don't have to change the past. Because He can change our future
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As my heart fills with gratitude today for all He has given that I can never repay, I know that the one thing I can give is my testimony. After one year, I can still say with confidence: I KNOW that Jesus Christ lives, because I live. I KNOW that Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father love you more than you can ever imagine, because I have finally felt some real sorrow and some real pain that allowed me to imagine a microscopic portion of how unfathomable the Atonement really was, and what a miracle that They loved us enough to perform it. I KNOW that Christ's gospel is the way to salvation, because it has saved my mind from trauma, my body from pain, and my soul from death. I know that Christ loves us because He let me suffer and almost die, so that in Him, I could be reborn, as we all can be if we choose to see each day as His day of miracles! and I bear this witness and promise to each of you in the name of He Who fulfills all His promises, even the name of Jesus Christ, amen
