Sunday Series: The Recent Shift

"The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints acknowledges that following today's ruling by the Supreme Court, same-sex marriages are now legal in the United States. The Court's decision does not alter the Lord's doctrine that marriage is a union between a man and a woman ordained by God. While showing respect for those who think differently, the Church will continue to teach and promote marriage between a man and a woman as a central part of our doctrine and practice." (here)

In the past, I have often wondered (and sometimes complained about) how no one really teaches the correct way to balance truth and tolerance. Everything I read was vague, with comparisons that I didn't always understand, or that did not help. But today I had a thought: what if balancing truth and tolerance isn't something that can be taught?

This week, the Supreme Court, in a close 5-4 vote, legalized same sex marriage in all fifty states. If you haven't heard about it by now, I might be a little concerned for you. It seemed like everything exploded into rainbows when the news came in, and it's the thing on everyone's lips, for good or for bad. As the statement above says, the Church does not support same sex marriage. In fact, twenty or so years ago, the Church released "The Family: A Proclamation to the World" (full text here) which states that "marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children" and that "gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose." As such, how could the Church support today's many gender-neutralizing movements? 

Of course, this is not the be-all and end-all of the Church's teachings on the topics of same sex attraction and marriage. Their teachings also include exhortations to love and support all of our brothers and sisters in this human family, even if they act in a way that is contrary to our beliefs. This is much different than the moral relativism preached in the world today- we believe in absolute truths. However, we also believe in agreeing to disagree, and treating each other with respect as equals in the sight of God. 

My thought today related to the balancing of truth and tolerance as mentioned above. The Church speaks about truth and tolerance, often in the same breath. But what is the best way to balance these seemingly contradictory principles? 

The car that I drive is a 2001 Saturn, a little blue car. It's also a stick shift, which is a rare sight nowadays. The first time I drove that car, I was with my dad. He tried to explain to me the best way to achieve balance between the clutch and the gas pedal. He used words like "about halfway" and showed me the engine rotations increasing and decreasing as he changed gears. When I attempted to move, I did so slowly, with a lot of jerking about, and occasionally stalling. I did not have another chance to drive this car until months later, when I took it out on my own. Again, I was met with much trouble, as the engine stalled and I could not figure out how to start it back up! As I slowly meandered through the neighborhood, I often misjudged the balance and ended up bouncing as the car struggled to stay alive. 

I have been driving that car for over a year now, and I not only know how to start it, I almost never stall the engine. I am able to stop and go smoothly, with little protest from the engine. I can accelerate quickly and I know how to use the gears to get up hills, or to slow down on ice. The only way to learn how to drive a stick shift, in my experience, was through practice and application of the basic principles that my dad taught me. 

I'm sure it's easy to see the parallel that I'm drawing. At first, the clutch and the gas may seem to be at odds with one another, yet in order to drive, both pedals are required. For a smooth ride, the driver needs to achieve a careful balance when shifting between the two pedals. I would like to compare the clutch to truth, and the gas to tolerance. Letting up on the clutch too quickly can result in jerking around. Not using it at all means being stuck in first gear, or even neutral, unable to move faster than about fifteen mph without ruining the car. Yet, too much on the clutch, and you will only end up coasting. Without gas, the car cannot accelerate at all, but will gradually slow until it stops completely. You need both truth and tolerance to achieve maximum speed and control, and they must be carefully balanced according to the situation. 

As a Mormon in this chaotic world, I am trying to learn how to drive, desperately attempting to balance truth and tolerance. Sometimes my engine stalls. Sometimes I get thrown around a bit. But I keep trying, keep practicing, so someday I can navigate the troubles of this world with relative ease. As same sex marriage becomes normal, this will become a necessary skill. I must stand firm in my beliefs of the absolute truth of marriage between a man and a woman, just as I must respect and treat with kindness those that do not accept the same belief. 

Like driving a stick shift, balancing truth and tolerance is a skill each individual must learn for themselves. Practice is necessary, and I think in the coming months, we will all have opportunities to do so. 

You're My Snowstorm

You are a blizzard, blowing violently in over the mountains. You rush wildly into every corner, covering every surface in that icy powder. You freeze the world into silence and peace, but also into chaos, traffic accidents, falls, and children playing (not all chaos is bad). Trapped indoors, or exploring out of them, I watch the flakes settle gently. It may be cold, harsh, and difficult to handle, but it is beautiful. You are beautiful. I can both scorn and love the snow somehow, disliking the cold distance that occurs, but enjoying the sun refracting off of the untouched inches of diamond. And though I love to see you go, I hate so much to watch you leave. But I know, in the end, you are not meant to stay. You are my snowstorm, blowing in for the winter and slipping out again as easily as spring melt, so that one morning I wake and you are gone.

Sunday Series: The Parable Of The Ten Virgins

Matthew 25:1-13

We discussed this parable in Sunday School today, and I enjoyed hearing the many different interpretations. My friend Daniel did ask a question that I'd like to explore, one that didn't really get answered in class. He asked, "If we sin, are we taking oil out of our lamps?" 

I think the answer is both yes and no. A different answer applies depending on the situation. I would argue that sins of omission do not remove oil, but that sins of commission do. 

With a sin of omission, of not doing a good thing, I would say that we are simply failing to refill our lamps, letting the oil burn down. Thus, we have less oil, but we have not really removed any from our lamps. Doing this for too long can result in a spiritual lack and a sputtering flame of faith. We can commit sins of omission for a fairly long time before burning out.

A sin of commission, on the other hand, results in an oil spill. It sloshes out uselessly onto the ground. Committing sins can have greater consequences far faster than simply forgetting to read your scriptures or not going to church. They can also result in excommunication (though I'm not sure exactly how to apply that within the parable). Spiritual burnout can occur far faster when sinning by commission. 

And, of course, repentance is always key. In every case, a speedy change of heart can help us refill our lamps and shine brightly again. Repenting is the key to keeping our flames of faith from sputtering out. 

Do you agree? How else would you answer this question? Please let me know!

Babysitting Adventures!

10/10 Totally great! Fun bike rides, some good movies, flooding, a Kool-Aid stand.....

Okay, I know, story time. So the kids and I were having a movie night in their basement, watching Brave, when we hear the rain start. It was easy to tell it was a pretty big storm from the volume, but it wasn't enough to bother the movie so we kept watching. Then, right after Merida makes her speech about marrying for love (which is brilliant, by the way), I realize that what I'm hearing is no longer dropping as much as...well...gushing. So, of course, it's leap into action time! I'm afraid I might have freaked the kids out a bit, in my haste to identify the source of the noise and then stop it. It turns out, the window well had filled up 7-8 inches with rainwater, and since the windows aren't completely waterproof, it was leaking in. So we got a bucket, and ALL the towels in the entire house to stop up the leak and hopefully help dry out the carpet. Long story short, a lot of neighbors got called, and we put a sump pump in the window well, which worked wonders, and it's a good thing this family is remodeling- they had one of those fancy industrial fans and some of the guys knew how to set it up to dry the carpet.

this fan

So in the end, it wasn't too stressful at all but it certainly makes a good story! We filled about a bucket and a half with water, so I'd estimate that to be 6 or 7 gallons, at least, that came through the window before we got it all fixed. Turns out the problem was that the drainpipe was right next to that window well, and since it had rained so much, the drainpipe couldn't handle it and it flooded right over into the window well. And that was my Saturday night!

Other than that, it's been a very chill weekend. We did a Kool-Aid stand yesterday afternoon, and I think I may have actually tanned, just a tiny bit. Today we went to Great-Grandma and Grandpa's for dinner, and played Apples to Apples afterwards. We've watched a few movies, and the kids rode their bikes a lot. I went with them once, and otherwise just sat outside and watched them. And we drove my car everywhere, because their van is so fancy that it's intimidating. But, the kids loved my car! Especially the manual windows that you actually roll down on your own. They were enamored with them. It made me feel a little old, but it was also a bit funny. 

In conclusion, babysitting is always an adventure! I highly recommend it to people who like children and potential disaster.

Called to Serve

Yesterday was an exciting day! I received my mission call, and opened it three and a half hours later on a live video stream to my friends and family back home, and with nearly all of my closest friends from Provo here in my living room.

The actual opening was quite the roller coaster, struggling against the temptation to skip ahead, and the anticipation of what it would be. It went a lot faster than I'd thought it would as well. But the time has come, and I'm proud to say I've been called to the Washington Vancouver mission!

This was the last place I'd expected to be called, but I am so psyched to go. As I announced it, on Facebook and in person, I was surprised how many people commented with "oh I know someone out there!" The family of one of my roommates actually lives in Vancouver. It's incredible- I already feel connected to this place.

Getting ready to go will be fun- I report on July 22, only 47 days away! I need to do the rest of my shopping, go to the temple, and just generally prepare. It's official- I am going to serve a mission.

I've been thinking for months about the scripture to use for my missionary plaque, and I finally settled on 2 Nephi 22:2, one of my favorite scriptures. It reads:

"Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid; for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also has become my salvation."

I love this scripture, because for me, fear is something that was getting in the way of me serving a mission. I was so afraid, right up until the moment I had my call in hand. And perhaps that was Satan trying to discourage me, but whether it was him or just me, I know that this scripture speaks the truth. As I go out into the field to serve my God, I know that He will be with me and guide me. He will strengthen me. I am so excited to serve.

And hey, if I'm lucky, I might just be able to use this blog! I can have my parents put up my emails from Washington, and that way it will stay up to date. I cannot wait to meet the people of the Washington Vancouver mission.

Mission Calls

My call for my mission arrived in the mail today. I've been staring at it in anticipation, fighting the urge to open it. But, as is culture and custom, I have to wait so people can watch and see. I will be opening it at 6:30, and I am counting down.

Odd Thoughts

I just had a realization. My best friend throughout middle and high school was named Danielle. Now I've moved out to college, and one of the best people I've met out here is Daniel Lee......Something's odd here. But in a good way :) I'm just destined to be great friends with a Danielle(e), I guess!

Sunday Series: Faith To Find The Answers...And To Admit We Don't Know Them

"I’ve been looking through windows into the night sky Wondering if all the prayers that I pray ever reach that high ‘Cause sometimes life can get so crazy, I can hardly make sense of it These are the times when I really discover what believing is I use my faith to find the answers to the harder things I lift my questions to the sky and find the peace it brings I do my best to solve the problems that are in my hands And I leave the rest up to Jesus, and He understands" - "Faith To Find The Answers," Cherie Call

This song is actually not on YouTube (at least not that I could find). How crazy is that? If you can find a way to listen to it, then great. The general message of this song is that we must turn to our faith when we need answers the most.

I had a great discussion with a friend on Friday night about a similar concept. We had been talking about our respective New Testament classes from last semester, and how differently they were taught (and it was a big difference). We mainly focused on authorship of the Epistles, and how many of them are uncertain. Soon, of course the topic turned to gospel principles and how sometimes we can be unsure of some of the most obscure of those. We talked about how sometimes it seems people receive contradictory revelations, and sometimes opinions are published as fact.

I really just want to discuss a point that our conversation came to more than once: admitting we don't know, and we might never find out in mortality. Sometimes it seems we can go to God with opinions and not get a "no" answer. I don't believe that necessarily means we are right. It might be what we need at that time, or it might be a small piece of a greater truth that our mortal minds cannot comprehend. There is an infinite number of ways to experience mortality, and to perceive it, and at some level, all are valid. Why, then, would that same principle not persist in eternity? There are the base truths, and our personal experience can build any direction from there.

Sometimes we don't know exactly what the answer might be, and we don't even know what we personally believe. In this situation, there are two options: to struggle and learn and attempt to form an opinion or belief, or to sit back and admit that we may never know, and let our faith carry us. Both are valid paths to take.

In the first path, we are striving towards an expansion of knowledge. We do learn useful things and become more knowledgeable along this path. We find ourselves in new places, meeting new people, and enriching our mortal experience. We may find an opinion that suits us, that we can live by, or we may not. Either way, attempting to learn is not a bad idea.

In the second path, we are striving towards an expansion of faith. This path, taken properly, means that we must have cultivated and nurtured our faith. We must be living and learning the Gospel every day. And we must be humble. Admitting some matters are out of our reach is an expression of our mortal imperfection, and a way of saying that we need God and Christ in our lives, to help us believe though we don't understand. This isn't an easy path either. In a way it is harder to admit that we may never understand, that we have to rely on the Plan of Salvation purely on faith in God's goodness, at least in the matter at hand.

Sunday Series: Hunting For Eternal Treasure

"For he will give unto the faithful line upon line, precept upon precept; and I will try you and prove you herewith." (D&C 98:12)

In the book "The Holy Temple" by Boyd K. Packer, it says this:

"When a contractor is to construct a building, he has beforehand...the plans and specifications. It is common procedure for these to be complete in great detail. They show the elevation...to indicate how it will appear from the front, and the sides, and the back...He can then see how the architect envisions the building will look when it is completed. The plans are carefully and minutely drawn, with details included...for electrical outlets, parts of the plumbing and heating systems, etc...This is not so with prophets."

Using the contrast of construction, President Packer is illustrating the principle of "line upon line, precept upon precept." The Lord alone holds all the plans for the details of salvation. We, however, cannot even begin to comprehend such a big picture, especially all at once. So instead, the Lord gives it to us in ways that allow us to grow in understanding.

The way I read it brought to mind a treasure hunt- not the kind with pirate maps, but the kind that I set up as a kid. Each clue (usually written on a sticky note) led to the next clue, which led to the next, and so on. As kids, my siblings and I loved to have treasure hunts, especially for our parents' birthday presents. We'd set up the clues, and most likely, we'd wrapped the first one to give to mom or dad. Then we'd all run throughout the house, following the clues until we reached the end of the line. My parents did this to me for one birthday. It was always a lot of fun, especially because we knew what lay at the end.

For visiting teaching this month, my companion and I shared a message from Elder Pino's conference talk. It's titled "The Eternal Perspective of the Gospel." He quotes President Kimball saying "If we looked at mortality as the whole of existence, then pain, sorrow, failure, and short life would be calamity. But if we look upon life as an eternal thing stretching far into the premortal past and on into the eternal post-death future, then all happenings may be put in proper perspective." The message of eternal perspective is an important one, especially when we understand the nature of our lives.

A long treasure hunt would surely be very frustrating if we did not understand the end of it. Surely we would get distracted and forget about the clues to go play other games. But the gifts at the end of the hunt are often the greatest, and the people you hunt with will make that time into wonderful memories. These are things we cannot understand without eternal perspective. We have to know first of all what the nature of a treasure hunt is, and that the work is worth it for the ending. Then we must follow the clues, line upon line and precept upon precept, until we reach the final goal. And, in addition to the classic treasure hunt, the gospel also expands our minds and teaches us eternal truths. Each "clue" builds upon the one before it, helping reveal the end.

Life is a treasure hunt, and eternity is the goal. This plan of salvation is so beautiful, and its nature so wonderful to us, allowing us to create joy and memories while learning about our goal. My challenge to you is to keep that in mind this week, and perhaps to share it with someone else.

Happy hunting!

Sunday Series: Come What May And Love It

"For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. If not so, my firstborn in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad. Wherefore, all things must needs be a compound in one; wherefore, if it should be one body it must needs remain as dead, having no life neither death, nor corruption nor incorruption, happiness nor misery, neither sense nor insensibility." (2 Nephi 2:11)

"And it must needs be that the devil should tempt the children of men, or they could not be agents unto themselves; for if they never should have bitter they could not know the sweet" (D&C 29:39)

"And the Lord spake unto Adam, saying: Inasmuch as thy children are conceived in sin, even so when they begin to grow up, sin conceiveth in their hearts, and they taste the bitter, that they may know to prize the good." (Moses 6:55)

Last night, I went over to a friend's apartment and watched the last half of "Patch Adams," an old Robin Williams movie. One of the scenes really stuck with me (as it was meant to) and I'd like to talk about what I thought of in that moment (if you haven't seen the movie, you ought to watch it before reading this).

It takes place after Carin dies, when Patch, full of grief, goes to stand on the edge of a cliff. In this moment, Patch is on the verge of suicide. He calls out to God, begging for answers and mercy, asking why man must suffer so much pain, why man cannot just be compassionate. Now, throughout the portion of the movie that I'd seen thus far, I'd gotten the impression that life had been good for Patch Adams. It felt as if he'd never had sorrow or cruelty touch his life, in a truly personal way. In this moment, he wasn't sure what to do with all that he felt. Eventually Patch gives up on praying and turns to leave, when he sees, on his bag, a butterfly. This revitalizes Patch, as to him, butterflies are sort of a symbol of hope, as well as a reminder of Carin. He returns to the hospital and begins his work anew.

This scene struck a chord in me. Once, I might've thought it would be nice to live in a world without sorrow or pain, a world of only kindness and love, but at this point in the  movie, I realized I no longer believe that to be true. Now I realize that love cannot truly exist, cannot thrive without the opposition of pain and grief. Love is so precious because of the potential for hurt that it brings. I've heard it said that people with depression will laugh louder, smile bigger, and try to make others happier, and I believe it's true. I believe that through their struggles, they have learned how to truly and deeply love. This can also be true for victims of tragedy, as Patch Adams was. Those who see that darkness and choose to move forward with hope become the strongest and most compassionate people. Knowing pain and choosing to love in spite of it results in a deeper, truer love than any other- that is what I believe.

So in the end, I think, seeing both the light and the darkness of our world is necessary to our growth as human beings. By being hurt, and choosing to move forward, we nurture our humanity. Our hearts become stronger, and because of that, because they can hold more pain, they can also hold more love. So in the end, evil is not entirely bad, because it can teach us how to love. And isn't it true that light is always brighter and more appreciated after being in darkness for a while? We see the night, and we must choose to look forward to the dawn.

I guess in the end, I truly believe that you must see both sides of this world in order to truly love it.

To Discuss

There are a few things I wish were more discussed. The first of those is mental illness. I wish that it was less taboo and more openly discussed. Perhaps then, not only would there be fewer misconceptions about the topic, but it would be considered more acceptable and more people would understand how to properly react to it. I know finding out that people I know are struggling with these every day is a hard thing, and I wish every day that I knew better how to react.

The second thing is specifically within the LDS Church- I wish that gender identities and sexual orientations were more openly discussed. After all, it is something that all of us will inevitably face in our lives, whether it's a friend, family member, or sometimes ourselves. I know that recently I have realized one of my greatest fears is that my child will have a different sexual orientation or gender identity....because I have no idea how I would deal with it. I wish this topic was discussed within the Church so that members could better know how to react, accept, and love, while still standing up for the truths of the gospel. As with mental illness, there would be fewer misconceptions and more people who can accept and properly react to it. Not that sexual orientation is even comparable to mental illness.

The third thing is that I wish it was socially acceptable to speak out about our difficulties. I know for me, it's harder because it seems like no one else is struggling with the same things, or what I'm struggling with is, for lack of a better word, lame. I wish it wasn't that way, that people could speak out and be accepted. I suppose this actually ties together the other two, because mental illness is of course a struggle, and hiding a sexual orientation must also be extremely difficult. So I guess what I want is a world of trust and open, respectful discussion. That's my dream.

Humanity

I think that something we miss in our mortal existence is the endless variety that is humanity. We miss the smallest variations, the different quirks in their smiles, and how no one ever loves something in the same way that someone else does. We miss the fact that each of us experience the world as a different place. Think about it! It's as if there's billions of worlds out there,billions of universes, each held in the mind of one human being, who alone seems so much smaller than all that they perceive. At the same time that this fills me with wonder, it is also a little scary because I don't understand it. And I also do understand. I understand that I am not the same person in another's world as I am in mine. And they also change when crossing universes. This is at once the scariest and most wonderful thing of all

Sadness

I am convinced that crying purifies the soul like rain
Washing away the dirt and dust and grime of life
It somehow heals some of the pain
That comes from all this everyday strife

Sunday Series: To Stumble

"And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3)

I believe that we, as people, as much as we'd like to think otherwise, do not walk or run or dance through life. I believe that we all are just stumbling. Can't you see it? We're all toddling through our first steps, just learning to walk, or live, as the case may be. We trip over our own feet ever day, and sometimes we fall.

This view of mine is actually synonymous with Gospel principles. As children of God, we were sent here to grow. We are learning to live just as our children in mortality learn to walk. I am sure we've all seen children and watched them, as they begin to pull themselves up and step along walls. They grin and smile and awkwardly swing their chubby little limbs around. Just like them, we must lean on things around us- people, places, and most of all, God. Throughout our whole lives, we never stop stumbling.

Sometimes it's not a bad stumble, but endearing, like tripping over words when talking to someone, or fumbling when holding something (preferably not anything too valuable or breakable). We as humans are often a little awkward or weird in our moods, and many may view this as a fault. Yet the truest friends anyone can have will view it as just a part of life. I know my best and truest friends deal with all sides of me, those times when I'm most steady on my feet, and also those times when I can barely stand without tripping (metaphorically, of course).

But sometimes it hurts, when we fall and make bigger mistakes, whatever they may be. It can hurt us, and it can also hurt others. We gain bruises and calluses from these falls, and we learn what not to do again. I'm sure everyone has personal experience with this. The pain of admitting to the fall, and not blaming anyone else is not pleasant, but it is redeeming. And this is how we learn, by falling over and over and getting back up to try again. Our Father watches us, and helps us as we shuffle along walls and couches.

To stumble and to fall is not shameful. I think this is the most important part to understand. It is natural, part of our learning here on earth. Just like stumbling children, we must view falls not as failure, but as a lesson. Just like children, we must get up again and again and not be afraid to fall. And just like we would not reprimand a toddler for slipping, we must not reprimand ourselves, only get back up with whatever lesson we have learned. Someday, long after this world's time has ended, we will truly be able to walk and run and dance. But for now, all we can do is continue to stumble and continue to learn.

Weird Days

What I want most right now is to slowly give you my heart over many, many conversations and late night restaurant runs and watching the sun set. I want to learn all about you and care for you. I don't know why I want this, or who. Perhaps it's because of the weird dreams last night, combined with an incessant need to be productive and work hard, combined with no motivation except to sleep and scroll aimlessly.

It's a little chilly today, but not freezing. I should be studying now, but instead I'm not. Later I'll cook pasta primavera, for my roommates, and some for a friend who took me shopping and helped me find everything. Tomorrow is my Creative Writing final. I need to turn in a ten-minute play. It's not done yet. I'm not sure I even like what I have so far. Wish I could have used the one that I started writing ages before discovering that we'd be drawing actors, titles, and settings from a hat.

Perhaps I have an idea. For the play. One both tragic and horribly funny. Maybe it will work. Maybe.

Some days are out of place with the rest and so are some people on these days, like whatever puzzle piece I am changes shape and doesn't fit on these days. Today is like I woke up this morning, slowly rising to the surface, slowly realizing how weird that dream actually was, no matter how nice it was at the same time.

Brain Dump

I believe that, although I am a creature of pain, that I am also made of hope. And that because I have had certain woes, I am able to see a brighter light. Though sometimes the shine is obscured because darkness gets in the way, in the end, hope is in my bones, and I know no other path.

Perks Of Being A Wallflower

I was told before the movie began that it connected to everyone differently but I didn't expect to feel it so deeply. Honestly, I could not stop crying for a good ten minutes after the movie ended and everyone left, and even then, I only stopped when I distracted myself with Facebook.

I'm not sure what it was specifically that hit me so hard. I know the line "we accept the love we think we deserve" has always been one of my favorites, even before seeing the movie. And "in that moment, we were infinite." I did gain one more that I think will stay with me, and that is "we can't choose where we come from, but we do get to choose where we go from there" or something similar.

I think the part that first touched me was that, for the characters, life was hard. So hard. There were a million things going on at once, and there was something deeper behind everything. And I guess I saw a little of myself in Charlie, not in his experiences, but in his reluctance to open up to anyone, including himself. Because it's hard for me to trust people, especially when things are hurting me. I've often told myself, the only one that sees me cry, really cry, is me. And it's probably true, at least for most of my life. So I related to that, to how he hid his pain, how he coped with it on his own and just tried to make it go away. I can understand how, even when he had known these friends for a while, and trusted them, how even after they'd stood with him through thick and thin, I understand, I think, he was still afraid that if they knew anything about the shadows inside him, they'd leave. No matter how unreasonable that fear was and no matter if he knew it. Of course, his shadows were much darker than mine hopefully will ever be. But I believe that the fear is the same. And the need, the wish, to have someone to open up to. Even though we're too afraid to try and reach out first. Except for, perhaps, in really vague posts on the internet, or letters to a friend who will never receive them.

The quote that I mentioned earlier, my new favorite, about choosing where we go, that one resonated with me. Compared to many, my life hasn't been that difficult. That is true. But it is also true that my situation was not ideal. It was hard, and stressful, and more than I should've had to bear, or would've in the ideal situation. It was never easy. But it wasn't impossible. I managed to make it, and at times, it was beautiful, it was fun, and I enjoyed it. And now I get to choose where I go from here It's all up to me- finally. I no longer have to struggle with the same things that I did while growing up. Well, mostly. And I am so happy about that. I didn't get to choose where I came from, but it shaped who I am today, and I like who I'm becoming. And now I get to choose where I go. That's life, I guess. I think that line was the point in the movie where I really started to tear up.

There was one other thing that resonated- something that has been true lately, but isn't always, or even often, and that is the theme of loneliness. An ever-present feeling of isolation. It's been hanging over me lately, and because I don't know how to open up, I haven't told anyone. I've been dealing with it the best way I know how- joking it off, subtly appealing for company, curling up with blankets and food, reading, trying to sleep it off...It hasn't worked. Though I do honestly think I haven't been sleeping enough, and that's why it's bothering me still. But at those times when it becomes too much, I do wish for a helping hand. And that's when I relate most to Charlie at the beginning of the movie, and after his breakup with Mary Elizabeth. Because even though I have friends- great friends- I'm not brave enough to trust them. Or to go to them for comfort. And so I still feel alone. Until I get rid of it on my own. Which I have done, many, many times.

Oh look. I'm crying again.

I hope that everyone gets the chance to see this movie. I believe what my friend said, that it connects to everyone differently. Since each of our lives are different, it makes sense. There are so many layers to this story. Friendship, love, trust, bad experiences, depression, suicide, joy, protection, heartbreak, and probably many more that I missed. I could relate to so many different pieces of this movie, but not nearly all of it, and a lot that I won't talk about here. I think this movie is the thing that helped my current cloud the most. Because somehow, even though it's a movie, it's inanimate and unchanging, somehow, it understands.

In conclusion, this movie is wonderful and I'd like to get my hands on the book in the near future.

Can I Trust You?

This morning in my ENG 211 class (Rhetoric and Civ) we discussed the nature of argument, and how it can be said that all of human thought is essentially an argument. Thus, all of our interactions are arguments of some form or another. Then we spoke on how the essential question of all human interaction is the one that is the title of this post; that is, can I trust you?

Thinking about this, I began to ask myself what makes a person trustworthy. Trust is an interesting thing, both comforting and terrifying. In this same class, we are writing a paper about the most important questions to ask when evaluating an argument, and I think they can apply here as well.

One of the first questions is about the worldview of the person presenting the argument (or in this case, the person you wish to trust). I must look at what they believe and why? What do they desire? What is their morality and motivation for how they act? And, the most important question, is all of this consistent with the argument that they are presenting? To present an argument inconsistent with one's worldview is to present an evil argument, according to Cicero. If the speaker's worldview is consistent, then they are more likely to be trustworthy. I would add here a margin of error for someone's effort to change. If the person in question is endeavoring to improve, as long as their improvement is genuine, then they are more likely to be trustworthy.

Their motives are the most important aspect of this question. What do they want from me? What do I have to offer that they desire enough to choose to interact with me? Are they using me or do they truly care for my well-being?  Also, with these motives, if I were to accept their offer of trustworthiness, what would that mean for me? If I spend time with this person, what character will I adopt and why would they wish me to adopt such a character? Again, motives that are inconsistent with their professed beliefs are considered evil.

Another question has to do with evidence. With trust, all of the evidence will be anecdotal, of course. No one will have studies on themselves to present, with figures and calculations of their trustworthiness, and if they do, that would be more a cause for worry than trust. So I then must look at how this person interacts with others, and do others trust them? This is one of the strongest points in a person's favor or otherwise. If others trust this person, it sets a good precedent, meaning they are more likely to be someone I can trust.

Of course, these are only three of the questions that I ask myself when trying to trust someone, and mostly subconsciously. Yet that does not lessen their importance. I guess the point of all this is, be careful who you trust. Be sure they are consistent- I find when I am inconsistent, I cannot even trust myself. Be sure they do not have motives that would harm you. And above all, be sure that the character you would adopt is one that you want to adopt.

Sunday Series: Easter

Now I know it's late at night and I'm cutting it a bit close, but to be honest, there hasn't been much of a chance to blog today. Between conference and various instances of socialization with other humans, I've been booked. But I have time now, so here goes.

Easter Sunday is a miracle.

It wasn't emphasized as much this year, perhaps because I moved out, or because I didn't go to family dinner (I hadn't heard if it was happening or not until too late). Yet it was also more important, if only because I'm living on my own. I feel that over the past couple months, I have developed a stronger relationship with my Savior. This has happened through many small improvements and changes in my life, concerning scripture study, media time, taking good classes, etc. I've come to understand a few things.

Firstly, the Savior does know and love us individually and personally, like that one friend you've known your whole life. He loves us each so much, again individually and personally. This isn't a blanket love, like "I love the people in Europe!" or "I love my ward!" No, He loves you. If you were alone on this Earth, He still would have come. He would've died and risen again, suffered in the Garden, to save you, personally.

Secondly, Christ is always with us. It brings to mind the song "If the Savior Stood Beside Me." He is, in fact, behind you and before you and His angels are round about you, as the scripture says. I believe those people who say that we would be shocked to see what legions of angels are protecting us. Christ is always there and He will never leave. He will bless you with what you need.

Third, that the Atonement is about both little and big things. It is both the small changes in my life, and the big course corrections after making a wrong decision. He doesn't care what the world thinks of me, only whether or not I am trying to change. The General Authorities spoke about this in conference, how a Saint is a sinner who keeps on trying.The Lord doesn't care if we've stumbled or wiped out or fallen off a cliff. He will lift us up if we let Him. That is so marvelous to me, that no matter how I mess up, if I genuinely repent, I can be forgiven, and I can truly change.

There are quite a few mistakes in my past that I regret, that I perhaps never fully rectified, or that I didn't handle as I should. But this Easter Sunday, I know that they can be made right through faith. I can change. I will be able to say "Yes I was, but I am no longer" about who I used to be. That is the most marvelous thing about Easter and the Atonement is the potential for change.

Change is marvelous. Sometimes in this world I think we insist too much on seeing people as they were, as if they have not changed. I think we can have trouble recognizing true differences in hearts and countenances. Yet change is at the core of our being. No one stays the same for long. No, they will change, one way or another. The only time change slows is when we are given over to the adversary. Satan wishes only to keep us from growing, where Christ and our Father want us to become so much more.

This is my testimony this Easter Sunday: that because of the Atonement, we can truly change. We can leave our pasts behind us, and the Lord will remember it no more. Improvement occurs when a heart is willing to accept Christ's all-encompassing love.

It's Conference Time!

General Conference is coming up, and as usual, it's an exciting time of year. In fact, it's crazier this year, since finals are coming up. I have a ten-minute play and two essays to write, as well as two religion tests and ASL to study for, and it's a little crazy. But now and then, between the rush, there are small moments of quiet. At this moment, I have done all that I can on my projects. In fact, I've done more- I began writing this ten-minute play based on something I've wanted to write about for a while, only to discover that our plays will be written on topics with settings, titles, and characters drawn randomly out of a hat. Of course, I'll probably still finish the one I started. It's one I feel strongly about.

As conference comes up, I've been pondering a lot of questions and I'm hoping that this weekend will help me finish answering them. Hopefully you all know that I've been planning on serving a mission. Well, lately, I've been questioning that decision, for a multitude of reasons, the first being fear. I am afraid to leave all of this behind for a year and a half, just when I'm finally settling in. The second reason is passion. Perhaps as a result of my fear, I cannot find my passion for the work. The Gospel is true, and I have a strong testimony, but sharing it is intimidating.  The third reason is, of course, what if I got married? Not that I'm anywhere close to that, obviously. I haven't even been on a date in months  (though it's been a bit of a relief- I have more time for homework). But there is the ever-present what if.

Yet a mission also offers so much. Perhaps in accepting a call to serve, I will be blessed to find that love for missionary work again. Perhaps I will be blessed with an even greater community when I return to Provo. Perhaps the Lord has something greater waiting in store for me than anything I can imagine now. I know many returned sister missionaries, and all of them are so spiritually strong. I do want that strength for my future family. So I am tentatively deciding to remain with my decision to serve a mission.

This is my hope for General Conference: That I will hear words to comfort my heart and calm my soul, to assure me that I am choosing correctly, despite what I'm leaving behind. I know that, if I remain faithful, the Lord will aid me in this.

This weekend is not only Conference weekend, but Easter weekend as well. My wonderful family sent me my favorite candy as a part of a "finals care package" and I intend to consume it with care so it lasts forever. This candy can only be found at Eastertime, and my family always gets it for conference. Of course, this has nothing to do with the real purpose of Easter- it's just something I'm excited about. Easter really is a celebration of our wonderful Savior and His atonement. In ASL, we learned the sign for "repent" the other day, and the thing that struck me was how similar this sign is to that for "change." The only difference is that "repent" utilizes the shape of the letter "r" rather than "x." Repentance truly is change. Though we may fail and fall down, with the aid of the Savior, we can continue to try and one day truly change. Easter is the time of year to celebrate this gift of change. The Church released a video, either last year, or a few years ago, that perfectly portrays the Easter spirit.

I think, this Easter, I will honor m Savior by beginning to index again. I haven't for a long time, probably over a year. But just this past Sunday, we had a speaker teach our third hour about family history work, including indexing, and his message touched my heart. I want to help those that came before me. And I know indexing can help me as well- we watched a video about a man who began indexing as a tool to combat addictions, and he found his way back to the Church.

So this Easter, I'm challenging you to do something different in your life. Reach out to someone new, or start a new goal. And of course, endeavor to improve, and become closer to God. All my love to all of you!

Basically Plot Generators Are Hilarious

The Snow that Flurried like Loving Koalas

A Short Story
by Glinda the Good

Chantal Donaldson looked at the tattered sandwich in her hands and felt sleepy.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her damp surroundings. She had always loved magical Athens with its happy, high hills. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel sleepy.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of John Fish. John was a loving brute with wobbly elbows and grubby eyebrows.

Chantal gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a wild, adorable, wine drinker with fat elbows and pointy eyebrows. Her friends saw her as a perfect, pong patient. Once, she had even helped a wonderful toddler cross the road.

But not even a wild person who had once helped a wonderful toddler cross the road, was prepared for what John had in store today.

The snow flurried like loving koalas, making Chantal irritable.

As Chantal stepped outside and John came closer, she could see the pleasant glint in his eye.

John glared with all the wrath of 8928 down to earth helpful humming birds. He said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want a pencil."

Chantal looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the tattered sandwich. "John, hands up or I'll shoot," she replied.

They looked at each other with shocked feelings, like two helpful, hissing humming birds jogging at a very callous accident, which had drum and bass music playing in the background and two energetic uncles cooking to the beat.

Chantal studied John's wobbly elbows and grubby eyebrows. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Chantal in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't hate you John."

John looked lonely, his emotions raw like a grotesque, grated guillotine.

Chantal could actually hear John's emotions shatter into 5436 pieces. Then the loving brute hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of wine would calm Chantal's nerves tonight.

Don't Try This At Home, Kids

I have discovered a new "tired"- attempting English homework at 11p while overcoming a cold. I could not remember the word for blood moving through veins (circulation) or that feeling you get when you really miss something (nostalgia). I want to use horrible metaphors, like in those examples of "horrible analogies by sixth graders" or whatever it is. Is this how bad authors do their work? Stay awake until anything seems like a good idea?

Rearrange

They rearranged the trash cans on the third floor, and now one fills the corner where I used to nap. The nook is just the right size, and I can see why they would want it there. But just around the back of this corner is another identical bin. There is no purpose in having both, and yet there it sits, a brown cube in my spot. No longer is this space one for my seclusion, so I move down the hall to the next corner. It's too open, less comfortable. I do not like this change.

I rearranged my cabinet last week, fitting together boxes and cans so that all my food is organized and accessible. Everything is neat, crisp, and precise- except the chip bags. Those just sit atop it all, leftovers that don't seem to belong. This change is one that is useful.

My heart was rearranged when I broke up with my first boyfriend. I learned some things I hadn't known about him, learned that he wasn't who I'd believed. I learned about relationships and about myself. And I kind of still hate this change. Even though it was good for me in the end, I miss the person I thought I knew. But in the end, though it hurt, this change was good.

My stuff was rearranged, when I moved into my apartment. Now I have half a room (though the room itself is twice as large) and half a bathroom (which is better than sharing with my four siblings). The pictures on the wall are neatly placed and offset from one another. I love the angles and the dynamic that creates. The window is smaller and has blinds rather than curtains, and the spiral stairs down to this basement lair seem a bit fragile. But they never fall, and I find that I like this change.

Life was rearranged when I left home and moved to Provo. All of my old friends seemed to drop off the face of the earth, and new ones rushed in to fill that space. Though I still talk to some old friends, and hung out with them over Christmas, they are no longer my core group. These new friends are not the kind thrust together by shared classes. We're all friends because we get along, rather than because it's convenient. I have learned so much about myself and about life, in these short six months. This is a change that I like.

So even though change means I must find a new spot to sit (or move the trash can) I suppose overall that rearranging things is good. It only helps growth.

Getting Past It

"Missing" never really goes away, does it- we just learn to ignore it.

I heard once that hearts never really heal. They just grow scar tissue over open wounds so that we can live with ourselves again. And I think my scar tissue had grown so thick that I forgot a wound lay beneath it. But then the knife fell and opened the gash again, and "missing" bled out into my life. 

I also read once, about how love for those around us can change us. It forges something new out of what we used to be. I thought in the time apart, I had changed enough that the parts of me where "missing" resided had all grown out. But they were still there, well-hidden.

I heard once that souls have no concept of time, which is why missing occurs so easily. The soul doesn't know that they will be back, or how long they have been gone, only that they are not here. And so it mourns their presence, cries out in their absence, until they return.

Coming back to writing this, weeks later, I find my calluses have again thickened, though my heart is still sore. Maybe missing is just a part of who I am. Perhaps it's a part of all of us- after all, life is always changing and growing into something new. And as wonderful as it is, I wish that I got to choose which parts changed and which stayed the same.

Some things I don't miss. Some I regret. But others make my soul ache in a way nothing else can because they are gone and will never be here again, at least not in the same way. These things may not be necessary. They may have had to disappear so I could grow. Yet still I miss them being here.

Who do you miss? What do you wish hadn't ever changed?

There Is More To Me Than This

For my creative writing class, we were assigned an "inventive form" essay- basically a piece in a form not typically considered literary. I got really way too into it (and procrastinated all my other homework), but as it turned out, I'm glad I did. Anyway, here's the video, and hopefully you enjoy it!

Sunday Series: The Narrow Path We Choose

"Standards do not restrict us, but rather guide us down the path to get to where we want to go" -me right now because I couldn't find a good quote

In my mission prep class last semester, we had spiritual thoughts every class. Often they capture my attention. This one, I wanted to write about. Whoever gave the thought managed to compare the plan of salvation/gospel standards to a college major, specifically in neurosurgery. As a student majoring in neurosurgery takes classes, they gradually become more specific. That is, they start out with a wide variety of courses, electives, and Gen Ed requirements. As the years roll by, suddenly they are only taking increasingly more difficult classes on the brain and surgical technique, and they have to intern at a hospital before being able to graduate.

The Plan of Salvation can seem like that sometimes. As we grow, it can appear as if there's more and more standards, and piles of rules. Each step on the path seems narrower. Yet, we have to remember- we are not restricting- we are specializing. As this major becomes harder, we must remember that we chose this path for a good reason, and that it will bring us happiness. We must enjoy our "hard classes" and "internships" as much as we once enjoyed our electives and free time. This is our passion, and our life choice.

And it is less restricting than it might seem. Sure, you can't take certain classes, or may not have room for a lot of "fun," but there is still goodness. The choice is still left to us what to do with our future beyond this life and what to do beyond college. And even within this mortal time, we are allowed to choose our friends, our spouses, our likes and dislikes, how we spend what free time we do have- reading, writing, playing sports, hanging out with friends- and we get to choose whether or not to enjoy it.

That, I think, is the biggest trap of choosing a difficult path. While traveling a hard road, the hardest part can be remembering why we're on it. It can be bumpy, and narrow, and a little scary. It may lack a lot of lanes to choose from, or distant views of mountains and mesas. We may be stuck behind Grandma and Grandpa, who don't know how to drive faster than 35mph. But we chose that road for the way that it ends. And, just as certain as knowing the end, we know there is something about the road itself that pulled us in. We take the paths in life that captivate us, and the trick is to remember that.

The path may seem narrow, but truly, it isn't. It is wider than you believe, and you chose it for a reason. And the more narrow it seems, the closer you are to the end, to the destination- the top of the mountain, where suddenly everything is in full view and we are on top of the world.

Sunday Series: Peace

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." (John 14:27)

"Peace: (1) a state of tranquility or quiet...(2) freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions" (Merriam-Webster)

Is there only one kind of peace? The world seems to say there is. When I think of peace, my first thought is stillness and tranquility, quiet and gentle. This is what we are taught. I don't believe, however, that there is only one type of peace for all humanity. I believe peace comes differently to all of us. After all, we are all unique individuals. Our minds interpret it differently

In the scripture above, the Lord is speaking about His peace, which we can receive.He includes only two qualifiers for this peace: that our hearts are not troubled, and that we are not afraid. I find this interesting. Peace can be very different from what the mainstream identifies it as. I believe peace is not just quiet and stillness. It is not just a state of tranquility, though that is still peaceful.

Peace can be movement. It can be bright and energetic. I would define peace as security and confidence, in all that is occurring in your life. Peace is, as the Lord said, not being upset or afraid. My peace often comes when I am busy, but not so busy that it's hard to handle. It comes with energy and strength to make it through each day, as well as happiness and confidence. I find myself standing taller, smiling brighter, and mumbling less when I feel "at peace." I find myself saying "Everything will work out." At these times, I feel safe in the knowledge that the Lord has my back.

We can find the truest peace through the Lord. He will deliver it to us in our times of need, if we are willing to lean on Him. His peace will free us to live our lives as who we are, without worldly concerns holding us down. All we must do is follow the path He has set- a path that is not restricting, that leads to being the best that we can be.

Prayer is key to finding this peace. Without prayer, our need is in vain. We must humble ourselves and ask for His help, and be willing to accept it however it may come. Sometimes help comes from others, and sometimes it is simply strength to keep pushing on. The Lord will give us what we need. Peace is knowing that, and knowing that our Father will take care of us.

We must all find our own peace in Him.

Brain Dump (I'm Procrastinating)

It's snowing outside, and I'm grateful for the moisture. My hands are dry and almost cracked. The grass is yellow, and everything is dry. We have needed the revitalization the snow will bring. Yet I still dream of warm summer and spring days where I can go outside, where cold is just an unpleasant memory.

Provo has mixed up winter and spring. The weather has been so pleasant these past few weeks.I have taken naps and worked on homework outside in the sun. Everything was bright and decidedly not icy. And yet, the past few days, it has been overcast. Snow falls intermittently throughout the day, but doesn't stick for long.

What is it about snow that makes us perceive it as so magical? Even as someone who dislikes cold and winter, I still look at snow with wonder. It may create dangerously icy roads and inconvenient blockades, but at least it's pretty right? It falls from the sky in thick white flakes, like meteorological dandruff. The gentle dance of the ice as it descends creates a sort of swirl. It reminds me of Christmas, of fun, and stories of magic- but why? Is it because it is so pure and white, because of it's sparkling refraction of sunlight? Is it the slow fall from the clouds? Is it just memories, of snowmen and snowball fights? Why is snow so magical?

Hopefully my windshield doesn't freeze over.

This Day

Cicero's words swim into my mind through my eyes, duties, philosophies, and morals. The floor is uncomfortable, but there is only one couch nearby, and it is filled with another student. So around the corner I sit. Part of the wall juts out, and then just as quickly recedes, and it is here that I have built my nest of papers and highlighters.

Something in the walls, in the ceiling, is thrumming. It pulses against my spine, never constant, like wind, or thunder, or perhaps a heartbeat. This notion catches me by surprise, and now this corridor becomes a throat, but where is the belly of the beast? Is it the center? Or do we simply pass through, back outside, and it feeds on our motion, our stress and frantic pace?

This nook is cozy. I slept, for a minute or two, and dreamed of storms and open plains, of friends sticking together though the world was against them. Friendship, when done right, can be just as stunning as the sky, and as powerful as this earth, which hurtles through space, strong, yet gentle, so that we do not even feel it turn.

The thrum grows, and I wonder, perhaps a prisoner is kept in these walls. A being that spends its days beating on them, until his hands are raw and mind is empty of hope. Getting out is the only desire he knows. I got out of something like that once. My heart was raw and angry for many months afterwards.

This morning I looked at the clouds and thought "Humans are always getting stronger." From the moment we're born to the day we die, all we do is adapt. Skin once soft and delicate grows rough through wear, and so we buy products to make it smooth again. Wounds heal to scars, blisters to calluses, and hearts just harden against the pain. At birth, we keen with hunger, we can't stand the agony, and yet now, we can put off eating for far too long.Our minds have learned that they are stronger. Heartbreak, too: each one seems to chip away at the inner idealist all people have, or once had.

The ceiling is humming and I wonder if the beast within feeds on our pain, the stuff we have learned to ignore. Perhaps it knows that we aren't using it.

Song Lyrics and Pantoums: There Is No Superman

In Creative Writing, we were asked to take lyrics from our favorite songs and to combine them into a meter poem. I chose to do a pantoum. This is two different favorites of mine, "This Is The Story Of A Girl" and "Waiting For Superman." I like it a lot, but I can't take credit for the awesome lyrics I had to work with!

This is the story of a girl
Who cried a river and drowned her world
She looked so sad in photographs
But I love her when she smiles

She cried a river and drowned her world
She's waiting for Superman to pick her up
She doesn't know I love it when she smiles
She'll smile in his arms someday

She's waiting for Superman to pick her up
An imagined mythical perfect man
She'll smile in his arms someday
I'll watch him take my light away

There's no imagined mythical perfect man
She settles with someone who only pretended
I watch him take my light away
One abuse at a time

She settled for someone who only pretended
And he tore away her shining smile
One abuse at a time
But I know she can find it again someday

That man tore away her shining smile
And hurt her until the day she finally ran
I know she'll find her smile someday
Maybe she'll run back to me

He hurt her until the day she finally ran
Now she's gone, searching for her happiness
Maybe someday she'll come back to me
And I'll see her smile again

She's long gone, searching for her happiness
She used to look so sad in photographs
Now she glows once more
This is the story of a girl

Sunday Series: He Has No Sin

How can a Savior who never sinned truly understand the pain of one who has sinned? He never had to repent or experience a change of heart....right?

Wrong. He did experience it. More than any of us, he knows how it feels. He did not sin or repent for Himself, that is true. But that was so He could atone for us. He knows exactly how it feels in our hearts when we sin, and when we repent, because He has felt our hearts. He has experienced all the pain the world ever offered to anyone, and He came through it, glorious, to redeem us all. Because of Him, we can get up after we fall, and heal, as if the fall had never happened. The only evidence is our own memory of it. 

The visiting teaching message for this month is titled "The Attributes of Jesus Christ: Without Sin." The message's focus is on how this attribute of Christ can guide us. It says that "Understanding that Jesus Christ was without sin can help us increase our faith in Him and strive to keep His commandments, repent, and become pure."

How do we do this? We are imperfect mortals, with a tendency to regress. Elder D Todd Christofferson said that "As we endeavor day by day and week by week to follow the path of Christ, our spirit asserts its preeminence, the battle within subsides, and temptations cease to trouble." How do we "endeavor?" 

Mosiah 5:2 reads "And they all cried with one voice, saying: Yea, we believe all the words which thou hast spoken unto us; and also, we know of their surety and truth, because of the Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually."

This change is also a promise, to do our best to live the Lord's way. Yet it is not a one-time promise. We are imperfect mortals and so we constantly sin, and regress. So we must make this promise over and over again. We recommit every day to living how the Lord wants us to. And when we fall, He can help us get back up, so that it was like we never fell in the first place.

I heard a valuable insight while visiting teaching today. One of the girls I teach referenced a talk that spoke on how sometimes the Sacrament prayer has to be redone. Perhaps a word is out of place, or the phrases were mixed up. Yet, even though it had to be blessed again, once it is right, it is just as perfect as if it had only been done once. Even though we messed up, if we repent, it is as if we never fell. And if we change, truly, to Christ it becomes as if we were never the way we were before, but for the memories that we have. 

Christ was without sin because we are sinners. Christ was without sin because He is our Savior. He lived a life without sin in order to save us. He lived the way He did so that we could live better. Christ is our constant. He sacrificed Himself for us, so that when we repent, it is as if we never sinned. All that remains is the memory of it, and that memory holds no weight in the eternities. 

Christ knows and loves us just the way we are, and He will guide us to be better.

Small Kindnesses

-the kind old couple missionaries at the event I catered on Wednesday, who read my nametag and bothered to make conversation. This job could get pretty boring without customers like you.

-the (cute) guy in the JFSB basement who picked up something I dropped as I came in and made sure I got it back.

(It was one of these things...they have a tendency to fall off)

-my coworkers for just being awesome, friendly people

-my roommates......

-just the general epic-ness of everyone I've met at BYU

For Valentine's Day

I'm standing here with my heart in my hands
Desperately reaching for you
I'm pleading and falling and see how I land
I lay crumpled, just one, and not two
Because desperation never works out
In matters of love and the heart
It's too needy, too ready to shout
And often over before it can start
But what if it's more than just the weakness inside
That's saying that we could be something
What if there's a reason for "you and I"
To have a chance to be more than a wondering?
Can desperation be silenced to find
The voice of one greater above?
Who placed us here, in this place, at this time
So we could find someone to love?

Even these wide eyes can see that it's hard

And that we'll each have to play certain parts

But it would be worth it, I think as I fall

To have the chance to join these two hearts

Sunday Series: To Proclaim Liberty To The Captives

There is a Messianic prophecy in Isaiah that touches a chord in my heart. It is found in Isaiah 61 , and there are two phrases in particular that stick out to me. I believe I have written about one of them before- "beauty for ashes." It is the second phrase, though, that made a point in Sunday School yesterday.

As you might have inferred, the phrase is "to proclaim liberty to the captives."

In Sunday School, we specifically discussed what it might mean, and I wish that I had raised my hand and said what I was thinking. Because of course, it does mean the literal freeing of captives, of Israel and the Jews, but I wondered if it might mean something more. If it might mean, say, the freeing of a cripple from a body that cannot walk. The freeing of the blind from a life without sight. The freeing of the disabled, bringing their minds in true harmony with their bodies, bringing them to their full potential. The freeing of the depressed to happiness, the freeing of the down-trod to hope. I wondered if "proclaiming freedom" was more than literal.

In addition, this freedom is a freeing from sin. Christ is the Mediator, the forgiver of sins. He knows our hearts, and through His Atonement, He brought freedom to our spirits, from sin, and also from death.

There is support for this idea- did not Jesus live His life healing the sick and mending the broken? His life was full of  miracles such as this. There is a famous story in Luke about a paralytic who was confined to his bed. This man's friends carried him before Christ, who proceeded to free this man in two ways, both from sin and from his bed. With the simple words, "Rise up and walk," Christ brought a new freedom into this man's life- a freedom of movement.

Christ can free us from everything that holds us captive. He can free us from fear, from doubt, from pain and loss. He can free us from heartbreak or longing. He has freed us from sin and death. He can free us from all that binds us, and keeps us from living to our full potential, if we just choose to follow Him.

Ramble

I will epistolize this feeling, defenestrate my meaning

And send a paper airplane wending towards the sky

Your name is the only one I wish to hear today

TBT: Bent But Not Broken

Take all the poetry
Take all my time
You take what's yours
I used to think it was mine
Take what is left of me
Broken and scarred
Take it and fix it
This wild card
Take all the pieces
I've scattered on the ground
And make something beautiful
You can do that, I've found
Can you make me more worth it?
Less awkward and strange?
Stronger and sweeter
So the others don't run away?
(They don't think they will now
But they always do one day)
Lord, make me eternal
And gentle and kind
Let me be a mother
I'll do my best, you'll find
Just don't leave me stranded
Broken and bent
Don't leave me out here
Hung over a fence

TBT: Tragedy Of The What?

Found this in my old stuff...don't think I ever finished it! From an essay I read for a biology class at some point.

"The tragedy of the commons develops in this way. Picture a pasture open to all. It is to be expected that each herdsman will try to keep as many cattle as possible on the commons. Such an arrangement may work reasonably satisfactorily for centuries because tribal wars, poaching, and disease keep the numbers of both man and beast well below the carrying capacity of the land. Finally, however, comes the day of reckoning, that is, the day when the long-desired goal of social stability becomes a reality. At this point, the inherent logic of the commons remorselessly generates tragedy. As a rational being, each herdsman seeks to maximize his gain. Explicitly or implicitly, more or less consciously, he asks, “What is the utility to me of adding one more animal to my herd?” This utility has one negative and one positive component. 1) The positive component is a function of the increment of one animal. Since the herdsman receives all the proceeds from the sale of the additional animal, the positive utility is nearly +1. 2) The negative component is a function of the additional overgrazing created by one more animal. Since, however, the effects of overgrazing are shared by all the herdsmen, the negative utility for any particular decision-making herdsman is only a fraction of -1. Adding together the component partial utilities, the rational herdsman concludes that the only sensible course for him to pursue is to add another animal to his herd. And another; and another....But this is the conclusion reached by each and every rational herdsman sharing a commons.Therein is the tragedy. Each man is locked into a system that compels him to increase his herd without limit—in a world that is limited. Ruin is the destination toward which all men rush, each pursuing his own best interest in a society that believes in the freedom of the commons." (Herdin, The Tragedy Of The Commons)

Hardin's basic claim in his essay The Tragedy Of The Commons is that freedom in the commons brings ruin to the population as a whole. A commons is defined as an area where all may partake of its various benefits without disadvantage to them, as in the situation of the fields and the herdsman above. Evaluating benefits is done on a case-by-case basis (the individual herdsman deciding whether to add a new animal to his herd) rather than looking at the benefits and detriments such an action would bring to the group or area as a whole.

It is my belief that the problem does not lie with the issue of freedom, but rather the issue of what we do with it. How do we choose to act, and how do we teach our children to act? I think the problem is the perception of what that freedom means.

It starts at birth- or, rather, sometimes it doesn't. It starts with watching a potential mother agonize over the decision to see it through. It starts with deciding that a body, a lifestyle, a trip, a figure, is more important than that life. It starts with ripping a small growing being from where it first began, keeping it from ever experiencing anything besides conception and death. Because the advantages offer so much more than the disadvantages- to the mother. But to the world? What would that child have become? But that isn't something that crossed her mind, when she decided. It was all about her.

In childhood- which toys belong to which child? Who gets what, make sure it's fair unless it's in your favor. Children are the least susceptible to the tragedy of the commons, but nonetheless are a part of it. Watch them. Watch what they fight about- aren't they the most angry when they don't get their way? When the game doesn't go how they wish it to, when they don't get the toy they wished for.

And teenage years. Oh the sweet, sweet torture. The years of me. Am I pretty, handsome enough? Do they like me? What are they thinking about me? I bet they talk behind my back and say mean things. Does this look good on me? In some ways, this is an important time of self-discovery, of learning and growing, but in other ways, it is an epitome of the tragedy. This time that is more full of sadness and exuberance than any other, but also so much more self-centered. It is a rare person that will do something that doesn't benefit them in some way. "What's in it for me?"

This is the issue: What we teach them. How we live. What do they see? We are all the same at heart. We are all self-interested, with that nagging hint of virtue. But if we let the virtue rule, what a world that would be. Yet self-interest keeps it from happening. Self-interest destroys relationships, destroys people, destroys worlds. This is the true tragedy of the commons.

A Short Poem About College Life

need sleep
want sleep
don't have sleep

need time
want time
don't have time

for you (oil spills)

I'll paint a portrait of love and loss, memories and oil spills
Coarse beach sand between my toes, a heart like an ocean
The clouds rolled in and I exulted - rain! rain at last!
But when they opened, rain was not what descended
I thought you were pure water, but I was wrong
The black liquid of you pouring across bright memories
Your glutinous solution sunk deep, discolored what was pure
A dark stain across my waves that previously gleamed
You killed my wildlife- my dreaming birds and darting fishes
They died, and the corpses washed ashore to rest at my feet
Soft feathers coated with slick, and scales that do not shine
To clean you up- it took great effort and much expense
I purified my ocean of you, but part of you remains
Bits of black dissolved into the expanse of salted sea
The memories I cannot forget
You were an oil spill that disguised itself as rain
The ocean waves roll, and though I am clean,
The water still remembers you

Isn't it funny that the only time we truly feel our own pain
             is when we have no strength left to deal with it?

Or perhaps we only realize we're feeling it
             when we no longer have the strength to hold it back

Brain Dump: An Old Thought Brought Back To Light

For a year or two now, one of the things I've held pride in is the fact that I felt like I didn't need a relationship, because to me that means that when I enter into a relationship, it will be because I want it, and not out of hormonal drive or some need to feel validated. 

Yet in that year or two, I've slipped up. This week is one of those. Perhaps it's the heavier load of work and homework- I'm working probably twice as many hours, and have more complex homework, and still have to fill obligations to friends and roommates, because I don't want to lose those precious relationships. Is it, then, so out of place, for me to wish that I had someone there to put their arm around me and tell me  I'm doing fine? To just sit with me, do homework in the living room with me. Someone that I'm truly comfortable around. Is it wrong to want that?

It's an interesting sort of feeling, for me. For the past couple weeks, I haven't had any interest at all in a relationship, right up until about three days ago. I seriously didn't even think about it. I was too busy, anyway, with homework and classes and getting used to a new schedule. 

But that's not the main point that I wanted to write about. That's not the old thought that came up. The old thought was this: That all pain is valid. There is no point where emotional pain is so insignificant that it should be disregarded. There is greater pain, yes, but that doesn't make the lesser pain unworthy of care. My stupid desire for a hug, for company when I'm lonely, shouldn't be disregarded. Someone I know is dealing with having to quit their job because they'd been working there for six years and never even been offered a raise. That may seem like a small reason to some, but that doesn't mean that they don't deserve help and support. 

Big issues need help and support as well. Abuse, loss, depression; all need that outreached hand and that knowledge that they are loved and cared for. But I would just like to say that we, as humans, should not allow the severity of these issues to constantly and entirely obscure smaller ones. 

I've told the story before, how there was a time where I felt incredibly insecure and sad, and I went to a friend and she told me I was being stupid and needed to suck it up. I have another story, however, of the flip side of the coin. This happened not long ago- a friend of mine who is depressed had run off early that morning, and we were afraid he might try to hurt himself. When I found out, I started to panic. By then, the issue had mostly been addressed, but it was still a cause of worry. My thoughts spiraled down the worst possible path, projecting the worst future. At that point, I was aware I needed to not be by myself- this kind of reaction was only hurting me and wouldn't help anything. So I texted another friend of mine, asking if I could just come over and hang out because I needed the company of someone who knew what had happened. She immediately said yes, despite being in the middle of her German homework with another member of her class. I just sat and talked with them, and I think that helped most of all. That night we actually ended up getting together with a few other people and doing something for that person, so it turned out much better, even for the one that we were all worried about, I think. It could have been so much worse, but it wasn't, because we banded together to help each other

My point is this: help others, even in the small things. Only good can come of it. 

Love

Your palm is warm against mine, and your fingers keep mine from freezing

When I shiver suddenly in a breeze that's filled with snow

Residual warmth and weight- your coat- rests on my shoulders

Swing the door open, and it jingles, allowing the sounds of dinner to escape

You pull out my chair- my knees slip beneath a scarlet cloth

Later, we will skid and slide home on a brand-new white carpet

Then on a couch- green like your eyes and soft like your heart-

Your embrace will tighten around me. I will rest my head against your shoulder

Warmth is no longer confined to touching palms

We are two birds, resting beneath our wings for the winter

The warmth and glow from the fireplace illuminate us

It will guard us as heavy eyes slip down-down-down

Until dawn peeks through the window to rouse us

In case you're interested....this poem came from an assignment in Creative Writing. We were asked to describe ideas and words using sensory details.

Swimming

I remember the day when I first discovered
That allowing breath free from tightened lungs
Makes it possible to sink far below the surface

The world turned azure, and sounds muffled
Hearing is not so important anymore. I focus on
Roughness, the floor pressed against bare knees

My breath is gone, so it's but a moment, yet such stillness
A maze of legs, a labyrinth shifting every second. Bubbles like fog
Obscure sight, and navigation is impossible, but why move?

I am made of loose muscles and drifting limbs
In this moment, with chlorine on my tongue, that taste- to me
It means freedom. My mind drifts endlessly with the water

This instant is frantically still

And a moment later, bursting free of the water's claim
Breath returning to tighten empty lungs, and perhaps being tight
The tenseness, and emotion, is a part of being truly human