So I feel like I should let people know what's going on, but I hope you will take it in stride and not feel like I'm announcing my own problems to get attention. Like Elder Scott has said, "...everybody has problems and nobody wants to hear about yours." But I've learned a few things that I think are important to share and I wouldn't have learned them without going through this.
Most of you, I think, know that I got a concussion almost a month ago. We're not sure what happened, nobody saw it and I have a lot of memory loss from that day. But I've had a concussion before, so not too big of a deal, this one was just worse than last time. After two weeks I still had some symptoms that didn't seem to be normal or resolving as fast as they should be, so I went to a doctor, who sent me to a neurologist, who ordered all sorts of tests. X-ray, CT, EEG, and MRI, the whole gambit. After some brief scares, we discovered that I still have some blood in my brain (common after a concussion) but it was in the area of my brain that is near the olfactory nerves, which control sense of smell, and that area also helps with emotions. One of my only remaining symptoms is the fact that I can't smell, [and therefore can't taste very well] so that made sense. Emotionally I seem to be fine, but jury may rule otherwise, I've always been too emotional for my own good (haha!). Anyways, the blood should reabsorb and resolve on it's own, but doctors say we can't really be sure what is going to be permanent at this point until that happens. I promise I'm fine, just experiencing life a bit differently these days.
I've had some interesting insights because of this. I happen to have injuries that are completely internal and no one could tell I even have them. There's no sign I wear that says "I can't smell and my head still hurts" and I'm fully functioning at work and school. But I know I'm not 100% yet. No one else does. Which begs the question: what are others going through that I can't see? Not all problems and injuries are visible to the world, but that doesn't make them less real or damaging. I'm as guilty of rash judgments as any human, but it seems so heartless now that I've seen a brief glimpse of the other side of things. I've had moments where I just think "You have no idea what I am going through, what this feels like. You don't even know." And now I wonder how many other people have that thought on a daily basis, and how many times have I been the cause of that thought.
I don't know how long I'll be like this, and that doesn't matter. What matters is what I've learned and continue to learn from it, and one of those things is that we all struggle in some way, some physically, some mentally, some emotionally, and some in ways that no one will know or see. So I'm determined to be more like our Savior, Jesus Christ, who suffered everything and had no bitterness, never complained, and loves everyone, weak and struggling and imperfect and tired though we all are. God loves us perfectly, He knows our struggles, and He would not put obstacles in our path without giving us a way through. Might be over, under, around, or just patiently pushing through. But there is always a way.
To quote my mom, "This is Plan A. The Lord doesn't do Plan B. Only our plans get messed up, not His."
Showing posts with label spirit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spirit. Show all posts
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
The Truth
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have been from the very beginning and while I did start off on this path because my family put me on it, as I have grown and matured and developed I decided it was time to know for myself. This was in high school, when so many are trying to figure out who they are. I had never felt a desire to leave the church, or to question anything I had been taught because it had all felt so right. But I knew I could not testify of the truth if I did not know it for myself. I couldn’t rely on the faith and testimony of others any longer. So I followed the example of the prophet of the restoration, Joseph Smith. As a young boy, he wanted to know which church he should join. But he did more than wonder. He took his questions to the scriptures and searched for answers. He read in James 1:5 “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.” This prompted the 14 year old boy to go out into the woods behind his home and pray, trusting in the promise of the Bible that he would receive an answer. He did receive it, as the Father and the Son appeared to him and told him not to join any of them. What would follow through this faithful young man was a work that changed the world, and continues to change it to this day. Because of him, we have the Book of Mormon, an ancient record of followers of Jesus Christ on the American Continent. Joseph Smith translated the words of prophets in those ancient times, and we now have their testimonies today. They testify of the divinity of the Savior, of His life and His mission and the great mercy and miracle of His infinite atonement. A scripture in the Book of Mormon, given by its final author, a prophet named Moroni, says this: “And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” That was my signal that it was long past time for me to show the same faith that Joseph Smith did, and ask God if what I had learned, and what I had hoped to be true, really was true.
I did not have an angel visit me. The Father and the Son certainly did not appear to me as they did to Joseph Smith. Lightning did not strike, music did not play, and there was no neon sign flashing the answer at me. But what I did receive is a feeling of warmth and comfort, peace in my mind and in my heart, and I knew—I KNEW!—that it was true. I did not need anyone to prove anything to me. I had asked God, and He had seen fit to reveal it to me. It is true. And that knowledge changed my life.
Because I know it is true, I live my life differently. Instead of viewing my religion as a responsibility or a sign to wear around my neck, it has become a part of me. I don’t just do “Mormon things” because I am supposed to. I AM a Mormon. There is a difference. Knowing what is expected of me is one thing; knowing why it is expected and what I can become because of those expectations is much better. I try to live my life as a disciple of Jesus Christ. This means that I hold myself to a higher standard. Yes, my church has high standards. Some might say we are old fashioned, and I’m proud of that. In the world we live in today, who wants to be on the forefront of the tide of liberality that takes away every moral guideline that was ever in place? What will be gained if we give up our souls?
The high standards of my religion are in place for protection. My high standards for myself are in place because I belong to the Savior and Redeemer of the world, Jesus Christ. He has ransomed me through His atonement, and my weaknesses and sins and mistakes, my hurts and my longings, my grief and my loss, are swallowed up by that. He has paid the price for me, so that even with my shocking amount of failings, I can be made clean and whole. I can live forever with Him and our Father in Heaven after this life, if I am worthy. I have devoted my life to Him, to His work, and to His children. Am I perfect? Of course not. I am far, far from it. If I had to spend a minute on my knees in prayer for every sin and weakness that I commit in a day, I would be kneeling until the end of time. But He takes my efforts and puts them on His mighty shoulders and carries me. He knows my heart. He knows that just because I mess up does not mean I am a bad person or lost or weak – though I might argue with Him on my weakness. He sees my heart. He knows that I am trying. And that means something to Him.
I love Him with all of my heart and all that I am. I will never be able to comprehend His suffering, or His goodness, nor will I ever be able to express gratitude enough for a fragment of what He has done for us. I am eternally indebted to Him, and that is why I have given myself to Him.
We are all children of a loving Father in Heaven, who laid out a plan for His children so that we might learn and gain experience through mortality. He knew we would mess up, which is why He sent our brother, Jesus Christ, to be our Savior. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He has a plan set for each of us. Every trial, every hardship, every good thing is in place in our life perfectly so that we can become the people He wants us to be, the people He needs us to be, so that His work can go forward. He wants nothing more than for us to return to Him. He loves us beyond our comprehension, and He will never leave us to face this world alone. Never!
I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true church of Jesus Christ upon the earth. I know that we have the fullness of His everlasting gospel. I do not say this because I am the #1 fan of my church, although I might be. I say this because I have studied scripture, I have searched for truth, I have asked, and I have received. What I know I know. Anyone can know with surety for themselves if they will follow the example of prophets and apostles before: search for truth and pray for answers. If you ask with faith, if your heart is in the right place, if you yearn to know so that you can do God’s will, YOU WILL KNOW. I know this is true with all of my heart. I know we have a prophet on the earth today. His name is Thomas S. Monson, and he has been called of God in this day to lead us and guide us in the paths of the Lord. He is just as much of a prophet as those found in the Bible. He is the purest example of Christlike love, because he knows the Master. He strives daily to be more like Him, to see all as He sees them.
I hope one day to be able to say the same about myself. But for now, I am trying.
I know this has been really preachy, and not at all like my usual humorous posts. But this is important to me, and I do not and will never take it lightly. There is much trouble in the world. But there is also SO MUCH GOOD. There are so many good people who are trying to be like Jesus, who want to do what is right, and who serve their fellow man with grace and charity and love. There is hope in the world, and there is hope in His gospel.
So come into the fold. Bring the goodness that you have found in your life and see if more can be found here with us. And together, we can build the kingdom of the Lord. We can walk in the Savior’s footsteps together. We can help each other on our journey through life. And when our mortality is through, we can rejoice together in the kingdom of our Father, where peace and hope are eternal and love never ends.
God bless.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
This is hard
Alrighty, it's about to get real up in here again. Sorry about that, but this is my blog and I can vent if I want to.
Life is hard. I know life is hard for everybody and we all have our different challenges and trials, but right now my life is HARD. Hard enough that I don't want to get out of bed in the morning unless it's Sunday because that is the only day that feels safe. Hard enough that one day at a time is all I can do. Hard enough that I feel like I'm being pushed to the very edge of a cliff and have to figure out how to stay on when everyone and everything around me is shouting "JUMP!" I have never felt so stretched in my entire life.
Now, to be fair, I am a ridiculously emotional and sensitive person. It is the end of my first year of grad school, and I'm exhausted in every single way a girl can be. Everyone tells me I'm in the homestretch, but it feels like the end of the obstacle course in American Gladiators where they put the hardest stuff all at the end and do their very best to break you. I always thought I had good life endurance, but this all makes me feel like a weakling.
I know what part of the trouble is. I'm trying to live righteously. That's not a bad thing, not by a long shot, but it does invite the devil to be hard on you because he wants to break you. I read numerous talks yesterday where the thought was said that when things get really hard, take that as a sign of encouragement that you are on the right path. That made me feel good, but it didn't help me to figure out how to get through it.
I've been praying with more sincerity than I ever have, and I always hope for miracles. But I'm starting to think this is one of those "push through it" times where heaven steps back and says "We're here, but you have to do this. Come on, one more step. One more day." I pray for strength for myself, which I always receive (sometimes by the end of the day I'm on my hands and knees, so to speak, and crawl home, but I make it) and other days it's like "Whew, I made it. That could have been worse." I pray to be positive, because I have to remember that with all of this hard stuff, I am an example of the gospel of Jesus Christ and people watch me. So I bite my tongue when I want to complain. I smile when I want to scream. I pray when I don't think I can do it. It's hard, but I have to do it. I pray for the people who are making my life miserable, because I don't know what else to do, and the Savior told us to pray for those people. I think it helps. But even the Spirit can only go so far in some cases.
I thought I had learned this lesson before now, when I was in a similar situation feeling just as lost and confused. I thought, "Hey, at least I won't have to do that again." I can see now that was to prepare me for this time. This place. These people. This is the real test. At least I hope it is. If it gets any worse than this in the future, God and I are going to have to have a serious talk.
I want to quit. Every day that thought pops into my head. "You don't have to do this. You can go home where there are people who love you. There's a job there you can go back to. You don't even want to do this. Go home. Give up." And never has any temptation been so enticing to me. Would anybody blame me for quitting? No, they've told me as much.
But will I quit? NO.
I may not know why the Lord sent me here and put me in this situation with these people and this place, but I KNOW THAT HE DID. I may be mostly alone here, fighting for my life, so to speak, and without any idea of how far I've come or what I'm doing right, but none of this matters. What matters is getting through it, even if it's by the skin of my teeth, and not letting go of what I know to be true. Nothing will shake my testimony of the Savior and His Atonement. Nothing will make me break the covenants that I have made. Nothing will take away the fact that I have been sealed to my family for eternity. Nothing will actually break me. I may crawl home at the end of the day, I may break down in tears on the phone with my mom because I want to go home, I may feel so hurt that my chest actually aches, I may wonder why in the world do I have to do this (and more terrifying, what could this possibly be preparing me for?), and I may have to talk myself out of bed every morning only to roll on the floor to my knees and pray for the strength to go further, but I will not be broken by this.
Others have gone through worse things, and no trial lasts forever. The scriptures always say "And it came to pass" not "And it came to stay."
So when I feel like my best will never be good enough, when one more day becomes too much, when I am tempted by the thought of giving up, I will remember my Savior, who knows exactly who I am and what I am going through, who has felt everything I am feeling, who endured far worse with far less complaint, who has never left my side and never will, who picks me up at the end of the day and brushes me off and says "Good job, you did it!" He is all the strength that I need.
If that is all I need to learn, that truly relying on Him is the only way, then I say BRING IT ON.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. It may be a very dim light and a very long tunnel, but it is there. One step at a time, I'm getting there. Hands and knees some days, but I'm getting there. I am being built for something, and I want to give the Lord the best version of me that I can. He deserves the very best.
I am so grateful for my friends and family that remind me every day that this isn't it, that I am more than this, who make me laugh and tell me it'll all work out and say all sorts of sweet things to make me feel better. You make the day brighter, and I love you for it.
I will make it. We will all make it. We may have bumps and bruises and scrapes and scars when we're done, but everybody knows that bumps and bruises and scrapes and scars come with the best stories. So in a future day when we're all around the camp fire with s'mores telling our stories, I go first. Pass the chocolate.
Life is hard. I know life is hard for everybody and we all have our different challenges and trials, but right now my life is HARD. Hard enough that I don't want to get out of bed in the morning unless it's Sunday because that is the only day that feels safe. Hard enough that one day at a time is all I can do. Hard enough that I feel like I'm being pushed to the very edge of a cliff and have to figure out how to stay on when everyone and everything around me is shouting "JUMP!" I have never felt so stretched in my entire life.
Now, to be fair, I am a ridiculously emotional and sensitive person. It is the end of my first year of grad school, and I'm exhausted in every single way a girl can be. Everyone tells me I'm in the homestretch, but it feels like the end of the obstacle course in American Gladiators where they put the hardest stuff all at the end and do their very best to break you. I always thought I had good life endurance, but this all makes me feel like a weakling.
I know what part of the trouble is. I'm trying to live righteously. That's not a bad thing, not by a long shot, but it does invite the devil to be hard on you because he wants to break you. I read numerous talks yesterday where the thought was said that when things get really hard, take that as a sign of encouragement that you are on the right path. That made me feel good, but it didn't help me to figure out how to get through it.
I've been praying with more sincerity than I ever have, and I always hope for miracles. But I'm starting to think this is one of those "push through it" times where heaven steps back and says "We're here, but you have to do this. Come on, one more step. One more day." I pray for strength for myself, which I always receive (sometimes by the end of the day I'm on my hands and knees, so to speak, and crawl home, but I make it) and other days it's like "Whew, I made it. That could have been worse." I pray to be positive, because I have to remember that with all of this hard stuff, I am an example of the gospel of Jesus Christ and people watch me. So I bite my tongue when I want to complain. I smile when I want to scream. I pray when I don't think I can do it. It's hard, but I have to do it. I pray for the people who are making my life miserable, because I don't know what else to do, and the Savior told us to pray for those people. I think it helps. But even the Spirit can only go so far in some cases.
I thought I had learned this lesson before now, when I was in a similar situation feeling just as lost and confused. I thought, "Hey, at least I won't have to do that again." I can see now that was to prepare me for this time. This place. These people. This is the real test. At least I hope it is. If it gets any worse than this in the future, God and I are going to have to have a serious talk.
I want to quit. Every day that thought pops into my head. "You don't have to do this. You can go home where there are people who love you. There's a job there you can go back to. You don't even want to do this. Go home. Give up." And never has any temptation been so enticing to me. Would anybody blame me for quitting? No, they've told me as much.
But will I quit? NO.
I may not know why the Lord sent me here and put me in this situation with these people and this place, but I KNOW THAT HE DID. I may be mostly alone here, fighting for my life, so to speak, and without any idea of how far I've come or what I'm doing right, but none of this matters. What matters is getting through it, even if it's by the skin of my teeth, and not letting go of what I know to be true. Nothing will shake my testimony of the Savior and His Atonement. Nothing will make me break the covenants that I have made. Nothing will take away the fact that I have been sealed to my family for eternity. Nothing will actually break me. I may crawl home at the end of the day, I may break down in tears on the phone with my mom because I want to go home, I may feel so hurt that my chest actually aches, I may wonder why in the world do I have to do this (and more terrifying, what could this possibly be preparing me for?), and I may have to talk myself out of bed every morning only to roll on the floor to my knees and pray for the strength to go further, but I will not be broken by this.
Others have gone through worse things, and no trial lasts forever. The scriptures always say "And it came to pass" not "And it came to stay."
So when I feel like my best will never be good enough, when one more day becomes too much, when I am tempted by the thought of giving up, I will remember my Savior, who knows exactly who I am and what I am going through, who has felt everything I am feeling, who endured far worse with far less complaint, who has never left my side and never will, who picks me up at the end of the day and brushes me off and says "Good job, you did it!" He is all the strength that I need.
If that is all I need to learn, that truly relying on Him is the only way, then I say BRING IT ON.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. It may be a very dim light and a very long tunnel, but it is there. One step at a time, I'm getting there. Hands and knees some days, but I'm getting there. I am being built for something, and I want to give the Lord the best version of me that I can. He deserves the very best.
I am so grateful for my friends and family that remind me every day that this isn't it, that I am more than this, who make me laugh and tell me it'll all work out and say all sorts of sweet things to make me feel better. You make the day brighter, and I love you for it.
I will make it. We will all make it. We may have bumps and bruises and scrapes and scars when we're done, but everybody knows that bumps and bruises and scrapes and scars come with the best stories. So in a future day when we're all around the camp fire with s'mores telling our stories, I go first. Pass the chocolate.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
New Year
A new year. It always seems like that should mean something to me. Every year since I was a teenager, I have pretended that a new year means that I will set new goals and become a new person. That works for a lot of people, I know, and I respect that. But ever since I was that ornery teenager, all of my goals and resolutions have been the same, and they tend to fall away before Valentine's Day.
I don't know if any of you know this about me, but I have very little self-motivation. If it is left up to me to get myself to do something, it will wait until the absolute last minute if it is a necessary thing, or it will not get done at all if it is not necessary. I am also prone to sporadic spurts of energy or devotion or fascination, which inevitably become old and fade away. This makes my rare moments of self-motivation success fade just as much as the rest of them, since they, too, become old.
For example, take my devotion only a few years ago to becoming fit and healthy and toned and thin. I worked out five days a week at a gym and did core workouts at home every night. I was dedicated for a few months and there was nothing that would stop me from my goals. Then it got cold in the mornings. It became too easy to stay in my warm bed and just do my workouts at home. Then I swapped my pushups for being propped up on pillows with a book in my hands. And thus was the end of my fitness fad.
Anyway, that's how I am. My resolutions have been the same for years. Delve more deeply into the Gospel. Be a better visiting teacher. Pray with more feeling. Be physically healthy and more active. Be positive about life and love. Etc etc etc.
Last year I decided to try something different. I knew it would be a big year, one in which many things about my life would change, and I was nervous. So instead of resolutions, I opted for a theme. After much deliberation, I chose this one: Have hope. No fear.
I wrote it at the end of my [very] occasional journal entries and it became my mantra. When I had a rough time for one reason or another, I repeated my mantra. It helped a lot more than my random resolutions ever had.
So. This year I will also have a theme, because this year, I will need extra help. My life is HARD right now. A lot harder than I ever thoguht it would be. I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I tossed around a few ideas of what could help me. Nothing has seemed right, for one reason or another. But right around the new year, two new phrases popped into my head, mostly because they are on a ring my friend gave me years ago, which I wear every day, so I see these words often. But after reading my "Daily Message" from yesterday, I am decided. The message was President Uchtdorf's talk from last General Conference called "Of Regrets and Resolutions", and this was the quote that struck me today:
"Brothers and sisters, no matter our circumstances, no matter our challenges or trials, there is something in each day to embrace and cherish. There is something in each day that can bring gratitude and joy if only we will see and appreciate it."
I needed to hear that, and I need to remember it. My life is not exactly what I want it to be right now, but it is not in my hands. It is in the Lord's hands, and He is the one who will get me where I need to be. I need to be happy regardless of my situation and have faith that all will be well.
My theme is similar to last year's, but has one distinct difference: Be Brave. Love Life.
I need to be brave in the Gospel and in my faith in the Lord. I need to love the life that He has given me and remember what a blessing it is to even be here.
So, for the year of 2013, I will be brave and I will love life.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
All New
I'm sitting here in my apartment bedroom at my little, but already crowded, desk, my knee is shaking up and down restlessly, a movie is playing, and my eyes are wandering to my clock every few seconds, wondering if it's time for bed yet. Am I tired? No. But I want it to be tomorrow. Badly. Because I hate waiting. And tomorrow, the waiting is over.
I got here on Thursday, and had a bit of an adventure with my apartment. It's all better now, and I don't want to drag it into cyber-space, but suffice it to say, it was not QUITE ready for me yet. That was fine, I had an entire weekend to get settled. So Friday the parents and I came over and started the process of moving me in. Oh my goodness, was it a lot of work. It took all day Friday and half of the day Saturday just to get boxes and suitcases empty. And that wasn't even the organizing process. My parents left Saturday early afternoon, and I worked really hard to be busy the rest of the day, and it worked. Until about 7 pm. I had done everything I could think of, and I was alone in my apartment. My roomies don't come for a few weeks, but there is still one girl here. But last night, I was alone, and it was not good. I started to freak to myself about being in a new place completely on my own without friends or family to help me or take care of me. Twenty-six years old and I was more scared than I had been when I went off to BYU at 18. I had no idea what I was getting into with my assistantship, not to mention the whole grad school thing. And then there was the prospect of church on Sunday. I was desperate to have friends there, so that it wouldn't feel so lonely here. I knew that once things got under way with work and school I would meet people and there would be real purpose to my being here, but that seemed forever away. I wanted to call my mom, but I knew that if I heard her voice, I would dissolve into helpless sobs that she wouldn't be able to do anything about. So we texted. Thank you, technology. She helped me get to the root of what was really bothering me, and then I came to the realization that I should have come to years ago. I needed to take care of myself in all aspects, and I had forgotten the most important part. I was moved into my apartment, had bought groceries, brought my textbooks, and picked up notes from my new job. I was following the promptings the Lord had given me about school and location, but I had forgotten that the biggest part of following His plan is to put everything in His hands. I was still trying to hang on to everything, to control everything, and the unknown expanse ahead of me was absolutely terrifying. I wasn't sure that I actually could stop the worrying and the fear and the panic that was starting to set in. No one was here to tell me things would be okay. I'd received a priesthood blessing from my father before he left, and there were some amazing promises and assurances in there. But those all seemed so far away. What was I supposed to do here and now, when I wasn't close enough for a mommy-hug? I went for my first thought: youtube. I went to the MormonMessages channel and clicked on the first video I found. It was one of the new Bible videos about the Savior, and He was teaching the beatitudes. My tears came back as I heard Him say "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled." I thought, "That's me!" I wanted to do what God wanted me to do. I wanted to be what He wanted me to be. I felt empty and I wanted to be filled. Then He said "Ye are the light of the world, a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid... Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father, which is in heaven." I have a responsibility here to be a light, to be an example. I couldn't do that if I was filled with worry and fear, especially when they were all so needless. But how was I supposed to get rid of them? I watched more movies on there: clips from general conference, message videos about getting through hardships and loving whatever comes, a brief clip of the prophet speaking just so I could hear his voice. I read the comments on Facebook that people had made, and one of my favorite women said this: "Bloom where you are planted. God sent you there for a reason. Find it, love it, and you might find a miracle." How I wanted that to be true! I wrote down quotes from what I was hearing, and posted them all over my room. "The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord, do your best, and leave the rest up to Him." (Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin). "Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don't come til heaven, but for those who embrace the Gospel of Jesus Christ, they come. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come." (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland). "We can live with perfect hope and a feeling of peace. We need never feel that we are alone or unloved in the Lord's service because we never are. We can feel the love of God. The Savior has promised angels on our left and on our right to bear us up and He always keeps His word." (Henry B. Eyring) Trust God. Leave everything up to Him. We are never alone. It was so simple, and yet I hadn't done it. How could I have forgotten to trust the One who had sent me here? I was ashamed of myself, and I knelt with my heart aching. I knew I had been stupid not to trust Him, and that it was silly to be so worried when He was in charge, but that is what happens to us mortals. So I poured my heart out to the Lord, and I told him that I would turn my worries and my fears over to Him, that I would put my trust in Him because I knew [and I DO KNOW] that He has a plan for me here. He told me in the blessing, and I knew that if I went forward with faith, that I would be protected. I would flourish. Even if the road ahead is hard, I can keep my head held high and my heart full of faith because He is guiding my steps. I never realized this before, but it is REALLY HARD to take that step out into the darkness, with the unknown ahead of us and no light to guide us more than that one step. But I have also learned, in the few hours of my being here, that if it were easy, there wouldn't be a reason to do it at all.
So. I am going to be patient here, in my new apartment, in my new city, in my new job, in my new school, in my new ward. I am going to put one foot in front of the other on this path that God has put me on, because I know He is taking me somewhere great. There are lessons to learn, people to touch, and rough edges that I need knocked off so that I can become refined and more fit for His kingdom here and to come.
Anyways, my apartment is now officially home. I have referred to it has such already multiple times. It's a little too quiet, and a little too lonely, but that will change. I went to my new ward today, and it was incredible. Tiny and mighty. But it will grow as students come back. Not that it needs to. I was filled today and I honestly a truly believe that this is going to be one of the best times in my life. Easy? No, not at all. In fact, I'm sure it won't be. Fun? Could be, should be, that's up to me. Worth it? Absolutely, and without a doubt.
It's a new adventure, a new challenge, and hopefully, a new me.
I got here on Thursday, and had a bit of an adventure with my apartment. It's all better now, and I don't want to drag it into cyber-space, but suffice it to say, it was not QUITE ready for me yet. That was fine, I had an entire weekend to get settled. So Friday the parents and I came over and started the process of moving me in. Oh my goodness, was it a lot of work. It took all day Friday and half of the day Saturday just to get boxes and suitcases empty. And that wasn't even the organizing process. My parents left Saturday early afternoon, and I worked really hard to be busy the rest of the day, and it worked. Until about 7 pm. I had done everything I could think of, and I was alone in my apartment. My roomies don't come for a few weeks, but there is still one girl here. But last night, I was alone, and it was not good. I started to freak to myself about being in a new place completely on my own without friends or family to help me or take care of me. Twenty-six years old and I was more scared than I had been when I went off to BYU at 18. I had no idea what I was getting into with my assistantship, not to mention the whole grad school thing. And then there was the prospect of church on Sunday. I was desperate to have friends there, so that it wouldn't feel so lonely here. I knew that once things got under way with work and school I would meet people and there would be real purpose to my being here, but that seemed forever away. I wanted to call my mom, but I knew that if I heard her voice, I would dissolve into helpless sobs that she wouldn't be able to do anything about. So we texted. Thank you, technology. She helped me get to the root of what was really bothering me, and then I came to the realization that I should have come to years ago. I needed to take care of myself in all aspects, and I had forgotten the most important part. I was moved into my apartment, had bought groceries, brought my textbooks, and picked up notes from my new job. I was following the promptings the Lord had given me about school and location, but I had forgotten that the biggest part of following His plan is to put everything in His hands. I was still trying to hang on to everything, to control everything, and the unknown expanse ahead of me was absolutely terrifying. I wasn't sure that I actually could stop the worrying and the fear and the panic that was starting to set in. No one was here to tell me things would be okay. I'd received a priesthood blessing from my father before he left, and there were some amazing promises and assurances in there. But those all seemed so far away. What was I supposed to do here and now, when I wasn't close enough for a mommy-hug? I went for my first thought: youtube. I went to the MormonMessages channel and clicked on the first video I found. It was one of the new Bible videos about the Savior, and He was teaching the beatitudes. My tears came back as I heard Him say "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled." I thought, "That's me!" I wanted to do what God wanted me to do. I wanted to be what He wanted me to be. I felt empty and I wanted to be filled. Then He said "Ye are the light of the world, a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid... Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father, which is in heaven." I have a responsibility here to be a light, to be an example. I couldn't do that if I was filled with worry and fear, especially when they were all so needless. But how was I supposed to get rid of them? I watched more movies on there: clips from general conference, message videos about getting through hardships and loving whatever comes, a brief clip of the prophet speaking just so I could hear his voice. I read the comments on Facebook that people had made, and one of my favorite women said this: "Bloom where you are planted. God sent you there for a reason. Find it, love it, and you might find a miracle." How I wanted that to be true! I wrote down quotes from what I was hearing, and posted them all over my room. "The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord, do your best, and leave the rest up to Him." (Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin). "Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don't come til heaven, but for those who embrace the Gospel of Jesus Christ, they come. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come." (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland). "We can live with perfect hope and a feeling of peace. We need never feel that we are alone or unloved in the Lord's service because we never are. We can feel the love of God. The Savior has promised angels on our left and on our right to bear us up and He always keeps His word." (Henry B. Eyring) Trust God. Leave everything up to Him. We are never alone. It was so simple, and yet I hadn't done it. How could I have forgotten to trust the One who had sent me here? I was ashamed of myself, and I knelt with my heart aching. I knew I had been stupid not to trust Him, and that it was silly to be so worried when He was in charge, but that is what happens to us mortals. So I poured my heart out to the Lord, and I told him that I would turn my worries and my fears over to Him, that I would put my trust in Him because I knew [and I DO KNOW] that He has a plan for me here. He told me in the blessing, and I knew that if I went forward with faith, that I would be protected. I would flourish. Even if the road ahead is hard, I can keep my head held high and my heart full of faith because He is guiding my steps. I never realized this before, but it is REALLY HARD to take that step out into the darkness, with the unknown ahead of us and no light to guide us more than that one step. But I have also learned, in the few hours of my being here, that if it were easy, there wouldn't be a reason to do it at all.
So. I am going to be patient here, in my new apartment, in my new city, in my new job, in my new school, in my new ward. I am going to put one foot in front of the other on this path that God has put me on, because I know He is taking me somewhere great. There are lessons to learn, people to touch, and rough edges that I need knocked off so that I can become refined and more fit for His kingdom here and to come.
Anyways, my apartment is now officially home. I have referred to it has such already multiple times. It's a little too quiet, and a little too lonely, but that will change. I went to my new ward today, and it was incredible. Tiny and mighty. But it will grow as students come back. Not that it needs to. I was filled today and I honestly a truly believe that this is going to be one of the best times in my life. Easy? No, not at all. In fact, I'm sure it won't be. Fun? Could be, should be, that's up to me. Worth it? Absolutely, and without a doubt.
It's a new adventure, a new challenge, and hopefully, a new me.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Christmas Countdown Day 5: Spirit
So sorry for my lapse in days, things were crazy what with a birthday and service projects and weekend.... But I am here now, and have a plan.
I gave a talk in my church on Sunday about the true spirit of Christmas, and I thought that for today's post, I would share it with you.
~~~
When I was a child, I was so excited by everything about Christmas. Christmas lights, Christmas songs, Christmas trees, Christmas cookies, letters to Santa, everything. Not much has changed as I’ve grown up. But there was one year when I was about ten that I was terrified of Christmas being completely ruined.
For one, it was raining. It shouldn’t rain on Christmas.
For two, we were changing our Christmas Eve tradition by going over to someone else’s house for dinner and the Nativity. You just don’t mess with tradition.
And finally….because when we got back to our house on that rainy, nontraditional Christmas Eve, all of the lights were out, the garage door wasn’t working, and we did not have a house key.
I was horrified. All of our presents were inside the house. The stockings, the cinnamon rolls, the Christmas cookies, the new pajamas we hadn’t opened yet…how could it be Christmas if we didn’t get to have Christmas?
Thankfully, one of my parents has to have a window open if the temperatures are not sub-arctic, and so their window was cracked. My dad hoisted my brother up onto the roof and he crawled to the window, lifted it open, and promptly fell into the room. He opened the front door and we all went inside, and Christmas was saved.
I’ve thought about that Christmas Eve a lot since then. I knew that it would still be Christmas even if we were trapped in our car, in the rain, without any of my normal Christmas stuff, but that meant very little to me. I wanted the stuff.
Time and time again as I remember that Christmas, I remember another Christmas. One that was also different.
We had finished dinner and were getting ready to put all of the presents under our tree when my parents told us they were changing things. We were all to go to our rooms and find three things we could give away. Confused, but obedient, we did so. When we came back down, they told us there was family in our ward who would not be getting Christmas presents. They asked us to look at our toys and see if we would be willing to give them to this family. We agreed, and in some cases ran back upstairs to get something better, and then got in the car and drove to the house. To this day, I do not know the family’s name, and I could not tell you where they lived. But I will never forget going up the porch, sneaking just as quietly as I could, and leaving my presents on the porch with the rest of the toys, food, and other presents, ringing the doorbell, and then running for our lives back to our car. That was a Christmas I treasure, not because someone else got to get stuff, even though they did. What I treasure is the feeling I had as I ran back to the car, knowing that I had given something without expecting anything in return. It wasn't the stuff; it was the gift.
Christmas is not, and has never been, about “stuff”, though we tend to forget that amidst the hustle and bustle of the season.
It brings to mind one of my favorite movies, and stories, of Christmas. The Grinch. In trying to ruin Christmas, he stole everything from the Who’s. Every hint of Christmas was gone. Then he waited for the reactions on Christmas morning and found that instead of mourning their loss, they rejoiced. “He hadn’t stopped Christmas. It came! Somehow or other, it came just the same. And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling. “How could it be so? It came without ribbons, it came without tags, it came without packages, boxes, or bags!” And he puzzled and puzzled, til his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more”.
It does mean more! Christmas is a time to celebrate the birth of our Savior, to rejoice in his life and his ministry and the miracle of the Atonement, the greatest gift of all.
Pres. Monson: Brothers and sisters, this joyful season brings to all of us a measure of happiness that corresponds to the degree to which we have turned our minds, feelings, and actions to the Savior, whose birth we celebrate.
I firmly believe that the magic of the holiday season happens because for this period of time, we are more focused on Him. We are more kind to each other, we are giving and generous, we take up these traditions that are wonderful and peaceful, and we call it the Spirit of Christmas. We mourn when the season ends, and we always wish it would come back.
I learned a long time ago that we should keep Christmas with us all through the year. I never really understood how I could do that. And then President Monson said this in the devotional last week: “When we keep the spirit of Christmas, we keep the spirit of Christ, for the Christmas spirit is the Christ spirit.”
Isn’t that what we promised when we were baptized and when we take the sacrament each week? That we would have his spirit to be with us? When we turn our hearts towards the Savior, and towards our fellow man, we will have the Spirit of Christmas because we have the spirit of Christ. Christmas should be a reminder to all of us of how we should be all year round.
A few years ago, President Monson shared this story, and I wanted to share part of it with you. In December of 1970, an ice storm came through the south. Passengers were stranded on their way home for Christmas. One gate in the Atlanta airport was particularly crowded. The last flight of the night, and probably for the next 24 hours, was to New Orleans and everyone was trying to get on it. Not many were having success. One who was unconcerned was businessman in a fine tailored gray-flannel suit, who sat working, knowing he was secured on this flight.
"A young man in military uniform, no more than 19 years old, was in animated conversation with the desk agent. The boy held a low-priority ticket. He pleaded with the agent to help him get to New Orleans so that he could take the bus to the obscure Louisiana village he called home.
The agent wearily told him the prospects were poor for the next 24 hours, maybe longer. The boy grew frantic. Immediately after Christmas his unit was to be sent to Vietnam—where at that time war was raging—and if he didn’t make this flight, he might never again spend Christmas at home. Even the businessman looked up from his cryptic computations to show a guarded interest. The agent clearly was moved, even a bit embarrassed. But he could only offer sympathy—not hope. The boy stood at the departure desk, casting anxious looks around the crowded room as if seeking just one friendly face.
Finally the agent announced that the flight was ready for boarding. The travelers, who had been waiting long hours, heaved themselves up, gathered their belongings, and shuffled down the small corridor to the waiting aircraft: twenty, thirty, a hundred—until there were no more seats. The agent turned to the frantic young soldier and shrugged.
Inexplicably, the businessman had lingered behind. Now he stepped forward. “I have a confirmed ticket,” he quietly told the agent. “I’d like to give my seat to this young man.” The agent stared incredulously; then he motioned to the soldier. Unable to speak, tears streaming down his face, the boy in olive drab shook hands with the man in the gray flannel suit, who simply murmured, “Good luck. Have a fine Christmas. Good luck.”
As the plane door closed and the engines began their rising whine, the businessman turned away, clutching his briefcase, and trudged toward the all-night restaurant."
What is Christmas really about? I turn to the simplest and truest words, which I learned from an unexpected spiritual moment in a Charlie Brown Christmas. He cries out, “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?” And then his friend Linus says this: “Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about.” “And there were in the same country, shepherds abiding in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about him. And they were sore afraid, but the angel said unto them “Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger” And suddenly, there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly hosts praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth, Peace, goodwill towards men.” Then he turns back and says, “That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”
That is what Christmas is all about. It’s what it has always, and will always, be about.
President Uchtdorf, “We do not need a Christmas holiday or Christmas traditions to remember Jesus Christ, the Savior. … May each Christmas season remind us to lift up our voices and fill our hearts with joy and gratitude that Christ the King has come! Christ lives! He is real. He is our Redeemer at Christmas and always.”
I gave a talk in my church on Sunday about the true spirit of Christmas, and I thought that for today's post, I would share it with you.
~~~
When I was a child, I was so excited by everything about Christmas. Christmas lights, Christmas songs, Christmas trees, Christmas cookies, letters to Santa, everything. Not much has changed as I’ve grown up. But there was one year when I was about ten that I was terrified of Christmas being completely ruined.
For one, it was raining. It shouldn’t rain on Christmas.
For two, we were changing our Christmas Eve tradition by going over to someone else’s house for dinner and the Nativity. You just don’t mess with tradition.
And finally….because when we got back to our house on that rainy, nontraditional Christmas Eve, all of the lights were out, the garage door wasn’t working, and we did not have a house key.
I was horrified. All of our presents were inside the house. The stockings, the cinnamon rolls, the Christmas cookies, the new pajamas we hadn’t opened yet…how could it be Christmas if we didn’t get to have Christmas?
Thankfully, one of my parents has to have a window open if the temperatures are not sub-arctic, and so their window was cracked. My dad hoisted my brother up onto the roof and he crawled to the window, lifted it open, and promptly fell into the room. He opened the front door and we all went inside, and Christmas was saved.
I’ve thought about that Christmas Eve a lot since then. I knew that it would still be Christmas even if we were trapped in our car, in the rain, without any of my normal Christmas stuff, but that meant very little to me. I wanted the stuff.
Time and time again as I remember that Christmas, I remember another Christmas. One that was also different.
We had finished dinner and were getting ready to put all of the presents under our tree when my parents told us they were changing things. We were all to go to our rooms and find three things we could give away. Confused, but obedient, we did so. When we came back down, they told us there was family in our ward who would not be getting Christmas presents. They asked us to look at our toys and see if we would be willing to give them to this family. We agreed, and in some cases ran back upstairs to get something better, and then got in the car and drove to the house. To this day, I do not know the family’s name, and I could not tell you where they lived. But I will never forget going up the porch, sneaking just as quietly as I could, and leaving my presents on the porch with the rest of the toys, food, and other presents, ringing the doorbell, and then running for our lives back to our car. That was a Christmas I treasure, not because someone else got to get stuff, even though they did. What I treasure is the feeling I had as I ran back to the car, knowing that I had given something without expecting anything in return. It wasn't the stuff; it was the gift.
Christmas is not, and has never been, about “stuff”, though we tend to forget that amidst the hustle and bustle of the season.
It brings to mind one of my favorite movies, and stories, of Christmas. The Grinch. In trying to ruin Christmas, he stole everything from the Who’s. Every hint of Christmas was gone. Then he waited for the reactions on Christmas morning and found that instead of mourning their loss, they rejoiced. “He hadn’t stopped Christmas. It came! Somehow or other, it came just the same. And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling. “How could it be so? It came without ribbons, it came without tags, it came without packages, boxes, or bags!” And he puzzled and puzzled, til his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more”.
It does mean more! Christmas is a time to celebrate the birth of our Savior, to rejoice in his life and his ministry and the miracle of the Atonement, the greatest gift of all.
Pres. Monson: Brothers and sisters, this joyful season brings to all of us a measure of happiness that corresponds to the degree to which we have turned our minds, feelings, and actions to the Savior, whose birth we celebrate.
I firmly believe that the magic of the holiday season happens because for this period of time, we are more focused on Him. We are more kind to each other, we are giving and generous, we take up these traditions that are wonderful and peaceful, and we call it the Spirit of Christmas. We mourn when the season ends, and we always wish it would come back.
I learned a long time ago that we should keep Christmas with us all through the year. I never really understood how I could do that. And then President Monson said this in the devotional last week: “When we keep the spirit of Christmas, we keep the spirit of Christ, for the Christmas spirit is the Christ spirit.”
Isn’t that what we promised when we were baptized and when we take the sacrament each week? That we would have his spirit to be with us? When we turn our hearts towards the Savior, and towards our fellow man, we will have the Spirit of Christmas because we have the spirit of Christ. Christmas should be a reminder to all of us of how we should be all year round.
A few years ago, President Monson shared this story, and I wanted to share part of it with you. In December of 1970, an ice storm came through the south. Passengers were stranded on their way home for Christmas. One gate in the Atlanta airport was particularly crowded. The last flight of the night, and probably for the next 24 hours, was to New Orleans and everyone was trying to get on it. Not many were having success. One who was unconcerned was businessman in a fine tailored gray-flannel suit, who sat working, knowing he was secured on this flight.
"A young man in military uniform, no more than 19 years old, was in animated conversation with the desk agent. The boy held a low-priority ticket. He pleaded with the agent to help him get to New Orleans so that he could take the bus to the obscure Louisiana village he called home.
The agent wearily told him the prospects were poor for the next 24 hours, maybe longer. The boy grew frantic. Immediately after Christmas his unit was to be sent to Vietnam—where at that time war was raging—and if he didn’t make this flight, he might never again spend Christmas at home. Even the businessman looked up from his cryptic computations to show a guarded interest. The agent clearly was moved, even a bit embarrassed. But he could only offer sympathy—not hope. The boy stood at the departure desk, casting anxious looks around the crowded room as if seeking just one friendly face.
Finally the agent announced that the flight was ready for boarding. The travelers, who had been waiting long hours, heaved themselves up, gathered their belongings, and shuffled down the small corridor to the waiting aircraft: twenty, thirty, a hundred—until there were no more seats. The agent turned to the frantic young soldier and shrugged.
Inexplicably, the businessman had lingered behind. Now he stepped forward. “I have a confirmed ticket,” he quietly told the agent. “I’d like to give my seat to this young man.” The agent stared incredulously; then he motioned to the soldier. Unable to speak, tears streaming down his face, the boy in olive drab shook hands with the man in the gray flannel suit, who simply murmured, “Good luck. Have a fine Christmas. Good luck.”
As the plane door closed and the engines began their rising whine, the businessman turned away, clutching his briefcase, and trudged toward the all-night restaurant."
What is Christmas really about? I turn to the simplest and truest words, which I learned from an unexpected spiritual moment in a Charlie Brown Christmas. He cries out, “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?” And then his friend Linus says this: “Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about.” “And there were in the same country, shepherds abiding in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about him. And they were sore afraid, but the angel said unto them “Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger” And suddenly, there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly hosts praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth, Peace, goodwill towards men.” Then he turns back and says, “That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”
That is what Christmas is all about. It’s what it has always, and will always, be about.
President Uchtdorf, “We do not need a Christmas holiday or Christmas traditions to remember Jesus Christ, the Savior. … May each Christmas season remind us to lift up our voices and fill our hearts with joy and gratitude that Christ the King has come! Christ lives! He is real. He is our Redeemer at Christmas and always.”
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