photo 225pxtab_zps3ab577af.png photo hometab_zpsc4ac9db1.png photo MMtab_zps84d1465f.png photo sisterselktab_zps4aeded4a.png photo ibelievetab_zps8c2c9788.png photo abouttab_zps2ebe1350.png photo 225pxtab_zps3ab577af.png

Friday, 26 September 2014

besties for the resties

To say my second year at BYU is completely different from my first would be an understatement. My freshman year started as a big mess. From day one I struggled with roommates, the BYU social life, and school. I didn't make friends very quickly, I was introverted, and I found myself getting lost among the overly optimistic and outgoing crowd that BYU is. For the first few months I really questioned my decision to come to BYU, and I wasn't sure that I would come back. Looking back I realize that all those hard feelings I had towards this school were because of my own choices.  It wasn't until Mason came along that things began to change. It wasn't just the fact that he entered my life, it was the fact that he was finally able to crack my introverted shell and open me up. I know it wasn't easy for him, and I resisted every step of the way, but it wasn't until I began to open up and let people in that I began to love my experience at BYU.
This semester I don't have my saving grace here. Before he left he was so worried that I would revert back to my old ways of being in the library 24/7 and working myself to death.  He made sure I found good roommates to live with, and I will be forever grateful for this. I am living with some of the sweetest girls on BYU campus. They are genuinely the best people I know. It has been extremely difficult not having Mason here, but these girls have been a blessing. So basically this is a post telling you that my roommates are the best, and I am having such a good time at BYU. Life is good, and I am so grateful for the memories I have made thus far.

Wednesday, 24 September 2014

Called to Serve Him.

This past week was i.n.s.a.n.e. It was an absolute crazy mess, but it was perfect in every way. Let's go back to Tuesday afternoon.
After having my mission papers in for almost 6 weeks, I knew they would have to come sooner or later. I continued to ask my dad to check the status of my mission papers (perks of having your dad as a bishop), but Sunday I was bummed to find out again that they still had not assigned my call. However, Tuesday afternoon as I was struggling to study for my microbiology quiz, I got a text from my mom saying, "you better start checking your mail!"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you serious?"
Yeah. So much for studying.
I flipped out. My mind was racing 1000km/hr. What did this even mean? Could my call really come TOMORROW? To make a long story short: I checked the mail box more than I feel comfortable sharing, I could not focus on anything else, all hopes of being productive went out the window, but my call did not come on Wednesday. 
And then Thursday arrived.
I had heard rumour that mission calls typically arrived on Thursday, so I wasn't all that surprised when it didn't come in the mail on Wednesday. I woke up Thursday morning bright and early—usually I would be waking up bright and early, but I have ZERO classes on Thursday—so naturally I got up to sit at the kitchen table and wait for any signal that the mail man had arrived. 
bad idea.
I'm sure my roommates thought I was going crazy. I am not kidding. Every single little sound I heard that morning I would race to the door and peak down the stairs to the mail box, and every time it was the same thing. Nothing. It would have been much better had I had classes on Thursday. I needed something, anything, to take my mind off my mission call. 
Well....HOURS went by, and nothing came. 
My roommate Eliza had put her mission papers in 3 weeks after mine, so when I found out her call had arrived that day, I got even more discouraged—I was extremely excited for Eliza, but I can't deny the fact that my heart absolutely sunk the moment I found out. I decided I just needed to get out of the house, to do anything to get my mind off the situation.
I ended up going to campus where I met up with Jennifer. She knew I had been waiting all day to get my call and had finally given up hope. I was trying to be optimistic about the whole situation, but she knew how I was really feeling. On our way back to the apartment she said, "I think the mail came while you were gone."
Here we go again:
"I don't think so."
"No it didn't."
"No it didn't."
"I don't believe you."
She pulled out the mail key, and I proceeded to run to the mail box. Earlier in the day I had written a note on our mailbox that said: "dear mail man/woman, I would really appreciate if you had a mission call in your hands today. -love Michaela" When I reached the mail box the first thing I saw was a smiley face on the note I had left. I could not believe it. I was shaking and I felt like my stomach had dropped underneath me. When I opened up the box, there it was. Starring me in the face.
Within 20 min of getting my call, texting my brother, and informing my parents, I was sitting in a park on a beautiful sunny evening with my call ready to open. Rawley was sitting next to me, my parents and Jantz, Katie, Nixon and Benson were all ready on skype, and I was more than ready to open my call.
My shaky hands were finally able to open the envelope that read:
"Dear Sister Selk, you are hereby called as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the PORTUGAL LISBON MISSION."
I could not believe it. It wasn't real. Did they make a mistake, because I was pretty convinced I was going to a Canadian mission. After months of convincing myself I was going to stay in my home country of Canada, Portugal was a HUGE shock.
A little bit of background before I continue: In 2011, when I had the opportunity to go to Europe I fell in love with Spain. I loved the people, I loved the culture, I loved everything about Spain. It felt like it was a second home to me. Ever since then, if someone were to ask what my dream mission was, I would have to say Spain. But I knew I would never get called to Spain, because I was sure I would never be called to a Spanish speaking mission. I thought with my background in French, I would either speak French, or English; speaking any other language didn't even cross my mind.
So when I say I couldn't believe I had been called to Portugal, it wasn't because I really wanted to go to Canada and was disappointed, but I was just so incredibly overwhelmed that I was practically going to my dream mission. I would have been happy to serve in Canada, and I know I would have loved every second of it, but I am so incredibly grateful to have the opportunity to serve the people in Portugal. I really could not be happier. Every time I learn something new about Portugal I realize more and more how perfect this mission is for me. Everything about it gets me excited. 
So after weeks and weeks of waiting, I am so happy to finally announce that I get the opportunity to serve the people of Portugal, starting February 4th, 2015. I know this call was inspired. I know this call is exactly where I need to be. I know this church is true. I know my Saviour lives and knows me personally. And I can't wait to share what I know.

Friday, 12 September 2014


So Mexico was an absolute dream. I'm still wondering why I don't live somewhere with warm weather and an ocean. Take me back please. Going straight from Mexico to classes Wednesday morning was a harsh reality check. I went from sitting by the pool, drinking pina coladas every day to the constant grind of homework. It was nice while it lasted though. I loved being able to spend those last few days with my family. I love them to death, and they just made Mexico all that more wonderful. It was sad to say goodbye to the humid air and the spanish accents, but I'll be back. I'll definitely be back.