Chastity, God's Love, My Life: A Testimony of Truth

I have a friend who wants to date Mormons. We laughed about this at first – she’s a Catholic living in Utah – but then she finally explained. She is absolutely in love with the idea of waiting to have sex until marriage. She’s sick of being propositioned on the second date, so with Mormon boys it’s so nice not to have to worry about that. My friend complained that she just doesn’t understand why other boys can’t respect that, or wrap their brains around that concept.

“Well gosh,” I told her, “it’s not at all a part of modern culture.”

Which is a shame. I genuinely believe that any time anyone has premarital sex, they are “playing marriage”. That ends up making a mockery of the most sacred and special and life-changing relationship you will ever ever have, EVER. I KNOW that's not right. And I respect both my God and my future husband too much to put myself in situations where my conviction of the sacredness of sex and marriage will be questioned.

And here's the really cool thing about most Mormons. Sure, we're raised to believe this stuff, but in this crazy world we're in, you just can't live your life coasting on what other people tell you. So people who act like they're not down with the premarital sex thing usually really believe it's wrong! It's a conviction, not a culture. For the most part.  Our doctors are amazed when we inform them that we are not sexually active, but really, it’s just a part of who we are. There’s extra light in our eyes.

I mean, I know that there are things in my life that I struggle with, just like everyone else. I have my ups and downs…but I want you to envision a graph. My line, even with all the ups and downs, is always at the top half of the graph, because God is in my life in frankly unimaginable ways. Other people have ups and downs too, but I worry sometimes that they are just living on a lower plane, when their lives could be AWESOME. I'm not saying that my life is perfect because you add God to the mix and BLAM, everything is fixed. Just that living spiritually is a generally happier way to be.

Spirituality is a necessary component that gets you out of bed in the morning and gives you a reason for living. Yet, there are a ton of things in life that dull that sensitivity to spiritual things, and pull your line downward on the graph, so to speak. That’s why I don't swear, or drink, or wear skimpy clothes. It takes something awesome -- like the power of words, or my body's inherent value -- and cheapens it, whether it's by focusing on the negative or distracting me from the positive. Or both. And that makes it a lot harder for me to use these amazing resources that God has given me in order to make my life, and the lives of other people, as wonderful as they should be. I went through a time when I had a really self-destructive mindset, and it was so amazing how God pulled me out of it in order to change my life, and enable me to change the lives of others.

Let me just say right off that I love my father. Even though I’m nearly 23, he’s still “Daddy” to me. When I call him just to say hello – which is often – we usually talk for at least an hour. He’s generous and intelligent and enthusiastic, a combination which often results in him explaining really interesting things to me. My dad loves to give me advice and is an amazing listener, and he always seems to know exactly what to say in order to make me feel less crazy. I love that I get to be one of his best friends.

However, my father grew up in a physically and emotionally abusive home, and it carried into how he raised me. Not going to mince words here – he has been emotionally abusive. Our relationship (and his parenting) has MINDBLOWINGLY improved since I was a kid. But I am still in the process of healing from, well, from my upbringing.

The worst part of it was the November after I turned 15. For the first time, I was the oldest kid at home and I was just so sick of bearing my father's disproportionate reactions. So I wrote him a note and told him that I couldn't take it anymore, and if he didn't knock it off, I was going to take every pain pill in the house. (We had a lot; my parents have had multiple joint surgeries.) I put the note on his pillow, and then went into my room to sob for a while.

Eventually the incoherent sobs formed into a desperate prayer. "Heavenly Father, I can't handle this, I can't do this, I can't take this for another 3 years before I can move out, if there is any way to get me out of here please do it, things are never going to change and I just don't have the strength to do this anymore, are you there? can you help me? are you there?"

It was about then when the thought shoved itself into my head -- divine intervention at its most personal -- that if there was any time to read the scriptures for comfort, this was it. So, desperately throwing my eyes around the room, I found my scriptures: Old Testament, New Testament, The Book of Mormon (which has the same light and truth that the Bible does, but talks about the people in the ancient Americas instead of the people of ancient Jerusalem), and Doctrine and Covenants (which is a collection of revelations -- you know, like God talking to His children -- written down. Most of them are God talking to Joseph Smith about what Christ's church was like when Christ was on the earth, and how to make the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that way again. Pretty amazing if you ask me.)

I blindly opened the book and flipped around until it felt right, and started reading. I found a chapter in Doctrine and Covenants, which comes from a time when the early Mormons were being persecuted and really didn't have a safe place to call home. If possible, I cried even harder when I found the verses. Remember that I was suicidal at this point, even though I was working so hard to be a good person despite being in a pretty hopeless situation, and you'll understand the weight of these words:

"For verily I say unto you, blessed is he that keepeth my commandments, whether in life or in death; and he that is faithful in tribulation, the reward of the same is greater in the kingdom of heaven. Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation. For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory; the hour is not yet, but is nigh at hand."

It was a message from God, directly to me. “Sara, I know you don’t want to live anymore. But I am going to make up for every hard thing that you are going through. You can’t even begin to understand how awesome things are going to be – not yet, but soon.” 

Wow. Those verses wrapped me up in this overwhelming and protective sense of God's love. I found the following verse in the Book of Mormon a few days later, and cried again, knowing how apt a description it was:

"But behold, the Lord hath redeemed my soul from hell; I have beheld his glory, and I am encircled about eternally in the arms of his love."

Having finally combated the more concrete part of the problem -- that my wonderful daddy can be a real jerk sometimes -- my angst was redirected to the more abstract side. How my dad treated me had affected how I thought of myself. After some counseling, and no longer being on survival mode, I could finally see: Wow, I think I’m pretty worthless. But I was still functioning, mostly because I knew God obviously didn't think I was worthless, and I tried to be a good person for Him, if nothing else.

I lived with this mindset -- I think I'm awful, everyone else thinks I'm awful, but God disagrees -- for the next two and a half years. By that time, the stunning truth of God's love had been somewhat overpowered by the crippling idea that His love was the only kind I would ever deserve. That's when, in a general psychology class that I didn't actually have to take, I was given the assignment to smile at everyone I had eye contact with. For a week.

WHAT?? my brain screamed. No one wants me to smile at them! They'll think I'm so weird! They'll be mean about it! Who DOES that? What kind of crazy idea...? AAHHHHHHH!!!

But, even as a senior in high school, I had a sense of adventure that to this day pushes me to do things that are just a little outside of the norm. So I tried it. And, hesitantly, tentatively...I liked it.

A few days later, I went to seminary. Seminary is a unique program of the Church where high school students get together during the school year -- often at very early hours! -- to read the scriptures and talk about the lessons in them. My house was too far away from the gathering point for me to meet every morning, but a nice woman in the ward agreed to meet with me and my siblings once a week so that we could participate in seminary too. That week, we were studying the New Testament, and since the school year had just started, we were on Matthew 5.

I don't know how I held it together long enough to get out of there, but somehow I did. And then I bawled. Again. (My early life involved a lot of crying, can you tell?) Here’s why:

"Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."

God loved me, yes, but other people did too. Not only that, but it was my responsibility to share God's love with them. I had light, and there was no hiding it. So that year, I smiled at everyone. Joked with them. Made friends. There were certainly days when I was still afraid, and God had to offer me some more reassurance. But overall...it was incredible.

These experiences were the start of a brand new life for me. It wasn't perfect, and since then I have definitely had my share of dark, lonely, and painful hours. But I know I've had worse, and survived. I can survive anything, because God is tutoring me -- me, personally -- to be the best Sara I can possibly be. And He's never going to give up.

Because of these experiences, I know that God exists. I know that the Holy Spirit acts as a messenger and a comforter and a guide, and I can live my life to always have His presence. I know that Jesus Christ suffered, to an impossible degree, so that I can become a new person every day, even when I sin and making stupid and hurtful and lazy mistakes that pull me away from becoming the person God wants me to be. Jesus Christ, God's Only Begotten Son, also takes my paltry, weak efforts to be good, and expands them -- magnifies them -- so that with Him, I accomplish more and receive more blessings than I could ever deserve. I rely on Him to bring me back to our Father -- Christ's Father and my Father, and yours. Christ's eternal sacrifice makes me clean, even clean enough to be in the presence of the perfect and holy and eternal Creator of the universe, who fathered my spirit and wants nothing but the very, extremely, most perfect best for me. Heavenly Father wants me -- us -- to be what He is, with our own infinite children and planets and knowledge to direct them all accordingly. To love them all perfectly, like He does.

HOW INCREDIBLE IS THAT??

To bring it back to our original point, I think that's why it's so important to be chaste before marriage. When we have children on this earth, we're practicing for when we're like God. Why would you ever fool around with that? That's why Mormons are so strict on dating and marriage and such, you know. The temple is the only place sacred enough for a man and a woman make that promise to God and to each other: that they will do everything they can to become, together, how God the Father is. It's the most sacred and special responsibility any person can ever have, and premarital sex takes all that light and truth and holy, sacred potential...and flings it out the window. It makes me want to cry just thinking about it.

So yes, I agree with my friend: people become so jaded about sex that they forget what it's for in the first place. But I seriously doubt that people even really understood "what it's for in the first place" to begin with. People can't forget things they never knew. I'm just grateful I do know it...and grateful that some wonderful guy who knows it too will take me to the temple someday, and we can get started on our eternal work, together.

It does make life frustrating sometimes though. I live with the knowledge that I am meant to be like God perpetually on my mind. Sometimes it’s pushed to the back, and that's why I need Christ; He brings it closer to the front. But it’s always there. This brings my life to such a higher plane, and I love it that way. But what I find so hard to understand is why so many people live beneath their privileges. I know, from experience, what it’s like to live “lower on the graph”, to use my analogy from earlier. Why would anyone ever do that by choice?? Again, it’s taking something amazing – like WHO YOU ARE INHERANTLY MEANT TO BE – and cheapening it by focusing on the negative and distracting from the positive. I am far from perfect in this regard, but I struggle on a daily basis to change my life so that it perfectly fits with Heavenly Father’s idea of How To Become Like God 101. And it kills me to have to wonder if other people are trying to do that, too, whether it’s my family or my friends or that guy I might like to date if he would just shape up, fer cryin’ out loud.

Really, it just shows how important it is for me to be a good person. If I’m doing good things, I have the Holy Spirit in my life. Since these people are in my life too, they’re bound to rub elbows with the Holy Spirit a bit. Also, by living close to God, I have a better perspective. My favorite thing about this summer is how much I have learned about seeing people as God sees them. He knows their endless potential, and if I try really hard, and squint a little, I can see it too. The moment I realize how superb they truly are, there’s this rush of love that pours out from my heart, toward them. No, I don’t understand their exact purpose in life, or know their life story. That’s God’s job. I’m just grateful to catch a tiny glimpse of how that crazy messed-up mortal, who bears the seed of divinity, will bloom into someone like Heavenly Father someday.

And, every now and then, I catch that same glimpse of myself. Those moments make everything, ever, worthwhile. They are when I can finally give everything I have and am and do to God. It’s like if your dad asks you for some nails and a board. You were going to make a birdhouse with them, since but he’s got the know-how and supplies to build a mansion out of it, you hand them over. And that mansion, because you added those nails and that board, is especially for you.

That, all that, is what I know to be true. I say it in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Plane pictures :)

This is the plane I rode on with my bishop's wife, Teri. (That's her in the picture, picking up one end of the plane. It was TINY!)

This is me on the plane. (Notice the big smile.)

And this is the view from the plane. (Now you see the reason for the big smile!)

Plan B

Metaphor of the Day: Following the Lord's plan / timing is like getting your second choice of unlabeled chocolate, and then finding out it was your favorite after all.

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I believe in finding happiness in plan B.

This is a very recent development. So many of my prayers are whiny because I'm not getting what I had in mind. But I'm starting to realize that the choice typically isn't "what I want" vs. "what I don't want"...the choice is often between being disappointed, and being happy with reality.

Example: last night, my crowd went to Acoustic Cafe, to be supportive of Natalie (who was one of the people in charge) and hear some fun music. Afterwards, I was faced with two options: go to ballroom dancing with Tim and Glen, or go to Snow Shack with Natalie and some of her friends, who I don't really know. I wanted to hang out with T&G, but not at ballroom. I wanted to go to Snow Shack, but not with people I didn't know.

In the end I went with Natalie (I like her better anyway ;) ) and had a fantastic time! Casey and his roommate Bryce were fun and talkative and didn't think it was weird that we wanted to chill at the park, and then wander around the student gallery of the art building. I love hanging out with men! They're so chill.

At any rate, I had a great time regardless of the fact that in a way, it wasn't what I wanted. This is a metaphor for my life, I think. I'd like to learn to roll with the punches a little better. :)

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Hearing: Natalie and Snow Patrol
Feeling: sunshiny

Getting the Glow

Metaphor of the Day: Women are like sunflowers -- they reflect the brightness that they follow.

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Lately, I've been considering the influence of women for good in the lives of those who surround them. I'm essentially receiving a scholarship based on my ability to be a good example. I taught Relief Society recently and we talked about, well, Relief Society. I've been doing a lot of thinking about what it is to love people for exactly who they are, weaknesses and all. The cover story of the most recent Ensign (September issue, actually) is a article from President Uchtdorf on -- get this -- The Influence of Righteous Women. Needless to say, it's been pretty constantly on my mind.

I think what really sealed the deal was an observation from a friend of mine. He basically said that a lot of girls are pretty, and nice, but with the really quality ones that he would actually date, there has to be something extra...something that has nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with how in tune she is with the Spirit. Christ's-image-in-her-countenance kind of thing.

At first, I thought this statement was simply to his credit -- that he's looking for a girl with that "something extra" that means she will be an excellent mother in Zion. But then I realized: his statement could also be to my discredit, if I don't measure up. He's far too sweet to criticize me, so I know he didn't mean it like that, but still, it made me wonder. Do I have that glow? Can people -- worthy priesthood holders included -- tell just by looking at me that I deeply love the Savior?

I suspect not. There's so much more I could be doing to bring the Spirit into my life. Once upon a time, I read my scriptures and wrote in my journal every single day. I worked really hard to build that habit, but where is it now? Things like that. My life is off-center, so to speak.

So, in an effort to recenter my life on the Savior, I spent some time today brainstorming what I can do to be better...

Daily
Study the scriptures
Pray always, with sincerity
Meditate
Write in my journal, especially with gratitude
Go for a walk -- be outside -- find God in nature. (Very transcendentalist, I know.)
Sing / listen to excellent music
Serve! There's a thousand little ways to do it; I just need to be alert.
Keep my apartment clean. You'd be amazed how much it helps!
Exercise. Just something small every day -- enough that I can get to sleep at night!

Weekly
Go to the temple
Prepare for Sundays by reading the lesson, etc.
Create something -- write or something. Just allow God to show me what it's like to be Him.

Generally
Ask Heavenly Father tough questions -- "what do I need to change?" etc. Ask for forgiveness.
Silence what I want because of a need to know what He wants. Stop whining!


Here's the thing though. To quote the aforementioned article from President Uchtdorf, "I invite you to rise to the great potential within you. But don't reach beyond your capacity. Don't set your goals beyond your capacity to achieve. Don't feel guilty or dwell on thoughts of failure. ...Do the best you can, and the Lord will provide the rest."

In other words, I may know that my ideal day involves an hour of reading the scriptures and my ideal week involves going to the temple 3 or 4 times ... but I also know that it ain't gonna happen any time soon. With this in mind, I'm contemplating some realistic goals for "getting the glow". Some things are naturally going to be easier than others, and don't seem like such a stretch to picture in the normal course of my life.

There's only 18 days left of the 7 week break (I'm not used to calling it Summer Session yet.) I promised myself I would take this break one day at a time and I think I've done a pretty good job of that. But I also think I need to take that idea to the next level and bring Jesus Christ deeper into my life one day at a time -- instead of just sitting around thinking about it.

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Hearing: really old EFY music. Like, '97.
Feeling: chastened, but determined

Changes, Pt. 2: Measure of Beauty

Metaphor of the Day: Being around a beautiful girl is like having a pet boa constrictor: a bit dangerous, but it's fun, so who cares?

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This blog was to be a searchable, categorized resource for how I can be happy in spite of the stressful things in my life. Looking over the things about which I've written, I realize that so much has changed.

Some things, though, don't change that much.

The Long and Short of It

I still feel most like myself when I look in the mirror and see short hair. For one thing, I just have the face for it. For another thing, I've had short hair ever since I started thinking of myself as an adult. When I cut it short for the first time, I had recently acquired my first full-time job and was in the process of fading out of the Young Women's program and into singles' ward. I left home for the first time not long after that, to come to school in Idaho. My college friends have no concept of what I look like with long hair.

In short (no pun intended), a pixie haircut has become a part of who I am over the last three years. But at the same time, I have become who I am over the last three years. I'm a little scared to grow it out again, in the same way I was a lot scared to cut it short. What if it's just not me? I don't really have an answer to that.

I Could Not Ask for More

Another thing that hasn't changed very much is my concept of my body shape. Let's face it: I am not a tiny person. And sometimes, that's hard. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and have to close my eyes. The mirror we keep in the hallway of our apartment stretches you just enough to be flattering, without you really noticing that it's doing it. You just feel attractive. There are days that I hate that mirror. I feel pretty when I look in it, but we all know it's lying. So am I not pretty?

I don't say this to throw myself a pity party. Every day I have to firmly say, Sara, stop comparing yourself to them, yes, but that doesn't mean I don't feel pretty a lot of the time. I try to take good care of myself. I could do better, be better, look better. But it could be a lot worse, too. I'm very healthy, so I have a lot to be grateful for. I just have to remind myself of that a lot.

To See or Not to See? That is the Question.

In addition, I discovered a couple of years ago that I simply have Really. Big. Eyes. It's mostly the whites of them that are big, but whatever the case, it's earned me a long-standing comparison with lemurs. I don't find the comparison to a lower primate to be particularly flattering, but I do enjoy that other people notice that I have big eyes. It's part of the Disney Princess standard of beauty.

It annoyed me for a long time that I wear glasses. Sure, they frame my eyes, but since I'm nearsighted, they also make my eyes look smaller. Why on earth would I want that?! Plus, I have no concept of what I actually look like without glasses. I toy with the idea of contacts for about two months out of every year ("toy with" here meaning "tell everyone I know that I am DEFINITELY going to get them this year").

This year is no different in that regard, but in another way, something has changed. Firstly, Cindy was a doll and did a photo shoot with me here in town; a few of the pictures included me without glasses. I like these pictures -- mostly. Secondly, I've met two particular girls. One is in my relief society, another was in a class. They, too, have ridiculously large eyes, but neither of them wear glasses. Looking at them, and at myself in these pictures, I'm not sure that Huge Eyeballs are the way to go. It's a little weird to look at the thing that you rejected out of vanity, and wonder if they might actually contribute to your appearance. I'm over contacts -- ask me again in a year.

What (Not) To Wear

When I first arrived in college, my personal style was a disaster. I was tired of hiding, so believe me, I didn't! My typical attire involved messy short hair, bright mismatched layers, drawn-on Converses (and jeans), the works! Cindy was wonderfully patient with me and my fashion choices, and so I gradually got over it. Then I worked in a very professional job for a year, and for a long time just really enjoyed collared shirts, skirts, slacks, neutral colors, and high heels.

My current style is a combination of the two extremes. I currently favor skirts with Converses, collared shirts, bright colors, and slightly messy hair. However, I also acknowledge that my personal style is not so personal at all; it is very much affected by the tastes of whomever I happen to be hanging out with most. This annoys me, but 2 Christmases ago Cindy wrote an entire short story for me to remind me that the people around us are just as much a part of who we are as the choices we actively make. So I try to be OK with it, and try to keep figuring out what I like best.

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On my bathroom wall, I have a picture of Jesus. As silly and incongruous as it sounds, I made a speech bubble for him, written in marker:

"You are always beautiful to me."

All this post really says is that I don't know how to be happy in regards to my physical appearance. However, Christ's love for me is never unsure, never changes. So this is what I keep coming back to, in the end.

Changes, Pt. 1: Introversion

Metaphor of the Day: Introversion is like having to ask the participants of the Running of the Bulls to take a number and form an orderly line.

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The original purpose of this blog was to be a searchable, categorized resource for how I can be happy in spite of the stressful things in my life. Looking over the things about which I've written, I realize that so much has changed. For example, introversion was once a huge part of my self-definition. Now, it has all but faded into the background.

Two years ago, I rejoiced in knowing that God made me an introvert on purpose, no matter how hard that might be for me sometimes:

"O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken until thy servant: but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue."

"Who hath made man's mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the LORD?"

Now, I relate better to John Mayer:

My stupid mouth / got me in trouble; / I said too much again / to a date over dinner yesterday...

There are still days when I'm "peopled-out". It's still not easy for me to meet new people, or strike up a conversation with mere acquaintances. And there are people in my circle of friends with whom I will probably never deeply connect, because we are both more inclined to listen than to talk.

The biggest change, then, is that all of this bothers me so much less than it used to. I firmly believe that we can overcome weaknesses. This isn't to say that someday our weaknesses will -poof!- cease to exist. Rather, we can learn methods to get around them, so much so that our weaknesses just don't matter anymore.

If men come unto me, I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble, and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me, for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

You don't have to knock down a wall to get to the other side. You just need the Savior.

There and Back Again: Postscript

"Oh my gosh!! you posted a blog!!! I just wanted to tell you that it was really beautifully put. I totally agree with you 100%. You are absolutely freakin' awesome, and I'm glad I've been lucky to have gotten to find out about it. :) That was a beautiful verse, and very interesting."

"You're so sweet to me. Thank you for being such a fabulous friend. I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU! When you and Chelsea get here we are going to party it up. Oh gosh I am so excited."

I'm kind of relieved too, honestly. I've been hanging out with four of my roommates, and some boys. They've been wonderful about keeping me from being desperately lonely and bored, and really the girls can be SUCH fun to hang out with. But I'm so tired of boys! So much so that I don't even want to talk about why I'm tired of them, but it'll be so welcome to have all of my wonderful people back, and to just try my DARNDEST not to care about anyone but the people who actually know and love me and see who I am. I don't want to just "have fun". It's not enough. But I didn't know what else to do this summer, you know? And now it's almost gone and I feel like I've spent another summer doing nothing -- nothing except getting spiritually sandpapered.

But what else was I supposed to do?? I chose to burn my time and emotional energy like it was cheap. Because it was -- I didn't have anything better to do. And now I'm coming out of that, dying to make something that actually matters again. I'm ready for real life again. Parts of it may stink, but that will be okay. It's real. Not shallow or meaningless. Real and full of pain that means something, and joy that means even more.

I guess it's all part of the Lord's plan. If I come out of this with nothing but the resolution to *never* settle for anything other than the absolute best, to seek joy and not fun, to love myself wholeheartedly even when it seems like no one else will, then maybe that'll be enough. The Lord will make sure I get what I need to out of it.

Part of me wonders when I'll quit only getting what I need and get what I want too. I guess that's what I get for asking the Lord to shape my desires into His plans for me, rather than the other way around.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see, and trust the Lord to do what He needs to do to make me His.

There and Back Again

It's been a long time since I sat down to write a blog post. I've been reading over old posts and thinking things like wow, that is so true and Oh my word, I'm a completely different person now and Gosh, I can't believe that bothered me so much at the time.

And even, Why on earth is this bothering me so much now?

I don't really have an answer to that.

Sometimes when you change and it's a blooming outward, and you sail along like puffs on dandelion. Other times when you change it's root growth instead, becoming more stable and solid, and drinking deeply. Even from the storm that surrounds you. I've become more "myself" this year, more grounded on the fact that I am OK, just being me.

What is getting me lately is that sometimes, other people don't make the effort to find out how awesome I am. (That is me being really hypocritical, because of course I don't go around finding out how awesome other people are.) I know that I am pretty, and fun, and smart, and it would be nice to know that all of that is plain to everyone else. But I don't think it is.

Does buried treasure want to be hard to find?
Or does it wait, shining and lonely
For a stubborn thief to come
80 paces to the left,
wary of the booby traps,
and dig deep
To find the gem whose price is far above rubies?

I just wrote that, but in the process I did a web search to make sure I was quoting Proverbs 31 correctly. Interestingly enough, I found someone else's blog post. She said that she always thought the scripture should say diamonds instead of rubies, but then she did some research and found out that rubies are actually even more precious than diamonds -- more rare, and one of truly excellent quality will sell for even three times more than a diamond of the same quality. Then, she found a definition of "virtuous", and her paraphrase is what caught my eye:

"Good,righteous, pure, kind, benevolent, generous, strong thru wisdom, grace and fear of God, conforming to what is right and just…….seldom sought."

Go figure.

One of my roommates is getting ready for a mission, and she's going to be wonderful at it. She was just now -- literally just now -- saying that she once really worried about being in the MTC, being able to make all of those connections with the scriptures. "I'm just not good at that!" she said. "But the thing is that every scripture I've read in preparation for Preach My Gospel says 'have the Spirit with you and the Lord will do the rest.' And I can do that! I may stink at the technical stuff, but I can sure be obedient!"

I love roommates, especially ones that are in tune with the Spirit and say exactly what I need them to, while having no idea that they did it.

In much the same way, I can really stink at the technical aspect of showing people just how awesome I am. But I can feel the Spirit, and seek to keep it in my life, guiding my heart. And anything that pulls me away from that simply isn't worth it.

heartsore

As my family and I sat around the table, having just finished reading Mormon 3, I had everyone flip back to the 7th, 8th, and 9th verses.

"I think it's interesting," I said, "that even though people are wicked, they can still succeed. On the other hand, we see all the time that even though people are righteous, things are still hard. I think it goes to show that God doesn't always work in a way that makes sense to us mortals. The bad guys won't always be punished and the good guys won't always get the easy road. Not temporally anyway."

I have been having a mysteriously hard time lately. To the point that I am getting off of a certain medication to see if it's getting my hormones off-kilter. I need some time to relax and recenter, but if I don't keep busy, then all the whiny, stupid, pessimistic bits of my brain start talking Really Loudly. (Kind of like when people are saying mean things about you, but not to you, but they talk loudly because they want you to hear anyway.) The inside of my head hasn't been the usual comfy, sunshiny place I've come to know and love, to say the least.

I've prayed about this, and sought guidance and comfort in the scriptures. Previously I've gotten messages like, "Sweetie. Keep doing what you're doing, and when something needs to change, I'll let you know." But continuing to what I'm doing hasn't really fixed anything.

This brings me back to the aforementioned scripture, and, in turn, an Elder Maxwell quote, about how sometimes enjoyment just needs to be deferred. People who do good things aren't always going to have a good time. Just because I'm paying my tithing and reading my scriptures and working and trying to be there for my friends doesn't mean that everything will always be great. In short, just because I'm doing my best doesn't mean that Heavenly Father will give me what I want when I want it.

Just because Heavenly Father doesn't bless me in specific ways does not mean I have to be afraid that He doesn't love me. On the contrary...maybe right now He's showing me what I really do want most of all: peace. A steady, strong relationship with Him. Faith. I know He loves me, and it's not like He's trying to be mean. There's something here to be learned, a way to grow.

I leave for school on Friday and I'm sure that to some degree, things will change. Classes will be nice, as will having more people on hand to spend time with. But the change I want most is for all of this to make sense...for me to find peace and joy in the Lord once again.

"Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed. " D&C 123:17

So in the meantime all I can think of to do is to keep trying and keep praying, and keep loving the Lord the best I can.

1 Corinthians 2:14 reads, "But the natural man receiveth not the things of the spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know then, because they are spiritually discerned."

The message of the day: I am a dumb mortal. It's okay if I don't get it. It's also okay if I don't like it. I'm so glad God is not a dumb mortal. Instead He is an infinitely intelligent, perfectly loving, absolutely individual God who uses all of His goodness and power (wow ALL OF IT?) to help ME, the aforementioned dumb mortal.

I want to be like Heavenly Father when I grow up!


Today has been a wonderful, wonderful day: I make myself laugh. I get to watch Conference with my family. I had a fabulous conversation with my favorite person in the world. I went to a great movie. I caught up with a friend. I hung out with my mom and sister. I ate clouds. (Oh yes... have you ever had yoplait whips??) I came home to my two favorite kinds of e-mails: an Interesting Conversation opener, and a newsy, loving update full of concern and questions.

God is so generous and giving...He gives me these kinds of days to slow down, take a deep breath, remember my child, life is good.

Life IS good. I am so deeply blessed.

Thank you, Father, for this day.

Lent Pt. -- er -- 2.5?

I realized something, and the more I think about it, the more I agree with myself. While this makes for a really funny internal dialogue, ("I think that blah blah blah." "Wow! I totally agree with that. In my opinion, blah blah blah." "Hey, didn't I just say that?") my point still stands.

In observing Lent this year, I think God taught me something without me having any idea that He was teaching me it while it was happening: Without exception, everything about life has parts of it that are really, really hard.

It sounds cynical when I say it, but it really does have great value, especially because my real point is this--

So what?

I can still love life and love my Savior to an unfathomable degree no matter what. Everything in life has some level of drudgery and unpleasantness, but if I know that to begin with, I can avoid unrealistic expectations that will keep me from appreciating the good and joy that is in all things as well.

By always waiting for the perfectly wonderful thing around the bend, I not only neglect the good that I have now (thereby seeing only the annoying, difficult parts) but I also set myself up to be disappointed when I find the "perfectly wonderful thing" inevitably has some painful things about it. If I can reshape those expectations, though, I can be better prepared to find the good, deal with the bad, and seek God in both aspects, now and in the future.

In a nutshell, through Lent 08, God showed me that life is just plain difficult.

...But only parts of it. Mostly, if I can learn to look for it, it is blessed and beautiful.

Poetry

these days
when the quiet mind is least appreciated
with its whispered questions,
echoes their only answer

I, for once, turn to physical reality
peanut butter
blueberry tea
the perfect pants
(and shirt)
laughter on the phone
bright tissue boxes
the murmer of the radio

I, the thinking girl,
often alone with her thoughts and
rather liking it that way, usually,
Reaches toward these little joys
Forgetting, a little, what the questions were at all

Turning Inward

I was asked today about a gospel principle I find difficult to implement, and why it's a struggle.

My first thought was, "Gosh, but there's so many!"

Patience and humility have been big ones lately, though. I am trying to gratefully acknowledge my dependence on the Lord as I wait for His timing and His blessings. I think lately He is teaching me that I am completely dependent on Him ... that my joy has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Him ... that there are times when I can do my part and still struggle to find peace ... that when the peace does come, I need to be grateful for His tender mercies.

If life was nothing but easy, or fun, I'd never learn anything. I know that. But it's easy to forget the easy and fun parts (or perhaps worse, think about them too much) when I'm solidly fixed in the middle of a season of learning. Sometimes it's hard to imagine that I will miss this, sitting at work passing the time between phone calls, going home to my family and all the things I don't have to figure out how to pay for. And then I realize I will miss it, and am exhausted just at the thought of going to school full-time, and working part-time, and still being expected to carry my burdens on my own, to doggedly keep seeking the Lord even when His hand is not obvious to my lonesome, fearful, mortal eyes.

But I like to believe there's some kind of middle ground there...that I can live, moment-to-moment, enjoying all of the love that surrounds me, bravely facing the difficulties before me, and knowing that I will be blessed in the future. I can't see the bigger picture with these mortal eyes, and while I could imagine it, the possibilities are so endless and varied that I don't find it very useful to do so. I keep walking, trusting -- hoping -- that if I'm getting off on the wrong path, He'll let me know, and that if He's not saying that, it means that I'm headed toward something too beautiful to imagine. I wish I could step less hesitantly, but God knows me. He understands. So I leave it to the Lord to show me what I need to see, here, now, and I try to accept that sometimes the Lord simply leads us through darkness, as we turn inward to Him for our light.

More Metaphors

I have this unexplained weakness for metaphors (especially kinda odd ones, apparently.) Maybe it's akin to my weakness for stupid puns; I'm not sure. Nonetheless, I am quite fond of both and although I know I'm going to disappoint you by not listing off all the dumb jokes I've made lately, I do have two metaphors to share, one probably kinda odd, the other not. I came up with them last night and they were so helpful to my soul-weather that I thought I'd share.

Odd one first, since I know you're dying to hear it -- but it does take a little background information. I've been in a terrible funk for oh, a week, maybe two? This was particularly discouraging (and a little scary, to tell you the truth) considering I'd been on such a high spiritual level for a week or two before that. It was like all at once I got really tired of putting as much work as I needed to into being happy, and was really thrown-off by that. To get around it, I've tried to keep busy -- not terribly hard when you work full-time, write, and hang out with your family. But it was the moments that ordinarily would be spent in quiet gratitude to the Lord that I spent being, well, pretty miserable, for no real reason that I could put my finger on. Fortunately, I have no "big trials" in my life right now, just little things that keep me on my toes. So why on earth was I such a wreck?

I see now that perhaps my 100% effort changed, for whatever reason, and I was left needing the Lord more than I expected, or was prepared to do. In all of my questing to be happy and grateful and especially humble, I think that things got a little misplaced. Two pages through my journal last night, I decided that I've been saying

I will gratefully acknowledge my complete dependence on Thee,

rather than

I will gratefully acknowledge my complete dependence on Thee.

Ironic, isn't it? In all of my struggle and work, I lost track of the fact that I'm struggling and working to let go. Of my heart, my happiness, my day-to-day doings, and let God take them into His infinitely more capable hands, because obviously I don't even have the power to create my own happiness. Instead of being mad at Him for not letting me to it myself, there are times when I really do need to just let Him do it for me.

It's like trying to open a pickle jar. (Isn't that an awesome metaphor??) I try and try and try but sometimes I just need Dad to do it -- although more often than not, he has me hold the jar while he turns the lid. So you needn't be surprised when I tell you that last night, I prayed "Heavenly Father, please help me to hold the jar, and let You open it, instead of trying to do it all on my own." I think He knows what I meant, don't you?

Okay, time for the less kooky metaphor. Anyone who reads my blog probably reads Cindy's, and therefore you've read this post. So if what I say here sounds a bit familiar, good, because I was thinking of her post too.

It rained again last night, a wonderful, long, heavy North-Carolina-in-spring rain. A couple of weeks ago I wrote in my journal about how we could get a hurricane, traumatic but essentially fixing the drought all at once. Or, we could get one tiny drizzle after another, agonizing but fixing the drought eventually -- but that it didn't matter, because God would provide either way. Well, considering the series of good, heavy rains we've gotten recently, I think it's safe to say that God provides rain in exactly the right way and time, and it's better than we ever expect.

That one I'll let you guys "liken unto ourselves" on your own.






....Okay, so it's not a pun, but I couldn't resist.

Q: What's the difference between a bad golfer and a bad skydiver?
A: A bad golfer says, "Whack! Dang." A bad skydiver says, "Dang! Whack."

Go ahead! Go on! Crack up! You know you want to laugh! It's dang funny!

It's going to be a good day today. I can tell.

Editing

It breaks my heart when I work so hard on writing something and then it just doesn't work.

I worked on an e-mail at work for maybe 20 minutes, making sure it was clear and complete and not totally boring because, hey, there was a story to tell. And it was a beautiful little e-mail! The unfortuntate thing is that in a workplace environment, if it's longer than 2 sentences and from anyone under the level of president, no one really cares. I could just see it -- the annoyed expressions, the impatient skimming. It may be art, but if no one wants to read it, it doesn't really fill its purpose. I scrapped the whole thing and started over. Short, to the point, no fluff. Welcome to the business world, I guess. Sigh.

What's disgusting is that I work that hard, and in much the same way, with anything I write, including this post. Write it out, edit it as I go, go back and read it, change this, rearrange that, read it again, fix some more things. I want it to be perfect, but as a friend of mine likes to say about scrapbooking, "perfect is pretty but finished is BEAUTIFUL!"

That's why I'm letting myself write things that I don't yet like on Cindy's story. It's not nearly as satisfying as having something beautiful that I think will make it to the final draft, but it does mean the story is out there, the structure is established. It can always be polished later. (And oh, believe me, it will be.)

I can't help but think there's a larger metaphor at work here...that sometimes we have to get out there, make whatever effort we can manage in this moment, and let God ("the author and finisher of our faith") do the editing. Perfect is impossible, but finished truly is beautiful, if we have the patience and humility to gratefully accept His refining. When my heart is breaking because I've worked for so long on something and it just isn't working, sometimes I need to start over. Short, to the point, no fluff: God comes first. Then I can fill my purpose, and find effective ways to both feel and communicate His love.

A Short Guide to Happy (on a bad day)

Yesterday, in a moment of deep dissatisfaction and some sadness, I decided it would be an interesting thing to try and make a list of things that DO in fact make me happy, especially because I wasn't at the moment.

A short guide to happy
1. Choose to be happy
2. Stay busy being useful
3. Cry when you need to, smile as often as you can
4. Do things to change for the better

So today, I started with #1 and a heartfelt prayer, expecting for this simply to be a "hard season," when happiness would just have to be deferred.

And yet here, now, in this moment, I am delighted by life. I love to talk to my dad, my sister comes to sit on my bed just because, my brother and I understand each other quite well and work as a team, I am connected to my mom in a way I am learning to really appreciate, Cindy loves me even though working full-time has rendered my life quite uneventful, I have a job in which I can be useful (that's #2 on the list!), Mahon doesn't mind reading my story, I'm WRITING and it's completely eating my brain.

As for #3 and #4, I have had not NEARLY such a hard time finding things to smile about this evening, and because I am seeking them out, I know that I can change things (especially myself, through Christ) for the better. I am once again trying to live moment-to-moment, grateful to God for all that He is and all that He gives. And, as I added at the end of the same journal entry as my list, "If it's not working out, it's because the Lord has something better in mind."

There aren't even words to express how personally our God loves us. He just is that way, and today I can see that. And I am amazed.

this is what happens when a good night's sleep devolves into a "nap"

I've come to the conclusion that sometimes, in order to be as happy as possible, you have to sit down for a minute and think,

"Man. This bites."

I've said it before and I'll say it again -- this is probably the happiest I have ever been in my life. I have been up to my neck in this quest to find deeper joy, greater happiness, more constant connection with God, and I can say, with deep gratitude, that YES, it is possible.

But it's also BLASTED HARD.

And God knows that. He knows that I am mortal, that no matter how hard I try to depend on Him, I will still need to mourn my own mortality. I am worn out and frustrated and probably just a bit angry that this whole being happy thing is so much work. But Heavenly Father understands that there is grief that comes with this earthly experience, and that my sin or even just my earthly limitations in general cause much of that grief.

I submit that it's healthy to mourn a bit. God trusts me to use the grief and broken-hearted-ness to be nearer to Him still. So that's what I'm going to try to do, with all of the humility and gratitude that I can muster. Which I suspect will be a lot more after I actually get some sleep.

I wanted licorice today anyway :-)

In the land of Sara, February 14th is usually just another day. This year, however, I found reason to celebrate.

Today, I am my own valentine.

Some people would find this sad and kind of pathetic, but I find it deeply refreshing. I am, after all, questing to love all of me and every aspect of my life -- moment to moment. Today has been a day of consciously loving me; I haven't gone looking for reasons to love myself, or done anything special, but I've found that love isn't always an action (or reaction). It's a choice, and today I have chosen, for no reason, and with no outward manifestation, to love myself.

Is this the kind of love God has for us, His children? There are reasons that we are loveable, certainly, and He indisputably displays His love in all things. But isn't it just that He loves us, simply because we are?

It's been a special experience to display even a fragment of that kind of love for myself today -- love that does not seek novelty, only constancy, even as it sees all of the flaws. It has made me more grateful than ever before for my Heavenly Father, because He loves me with this kind of love always, not just today. I hope in the future I can continue to develop a more Christ-like love for myself, and furthermore, for others. It is in no way my place to decide that there is a "reason" -- or not -- to love one of God's precious children. And yes, it is appropriate (and important!) to display this love to others, because we mortals are prone to need reminders. (God set up the rainbow covenant, after all.) But I believe truly Christ-like love is constant...to paraphrase a statement I recently read, people who desperately need love -- don't we all? -- do not feel more loved when there is one special day set aside, and the entire rest of the time they are ignored, or ostracized. To elicit change, it must be constant and pure.

That is perfect, moment-to-moment, Christ-like love (as opposed to the chocolate and flowers and cards that so many of us have exchanged today) and that is the kind of unquestioning, by-choice love to which I aspire.

Happy Valentine's day, all.

So I feel slightly like a slacker, but I really shouldn't! I was only tagged a few days ago, and I've honestly been too busy to write on my blog.

But here it is, a wonderful Friday evening, and I am at peace with the world. So, here I am.

It occurs to me that before I go on to anything else, I should think for a little while about why I am so cheerful right now -- you know, "recipe for happy" and all that. So I guess I'll back-track, one thing at a time, as best I can...

I am wearing my wonderful pajama pants. I was cold for one, and for another the whole reason I bought them was that they bring me joy.

My sister is at a friend's house for the weekend, so I was sad when I got home and couldn't say hi to her. Realizing it was important to me to say hi to her was a happifying thing, though.

I chatted with my mom the whole way home. Mom and I have a kind of lengthy commute, especially with traffic, but we never seem to be quiet for long. We've never been super-chatty, which is hard sometimes because I tend to feel most loved when I am having interesting, cheerful conversations with whomever, but the ride home seems to be an exception.

I suspect I am learning to better manage my time. Because I get up at 6am, don't get home until 7pm, and should start getting ready for bed by about 9 at the latest, it leaves very little time for me! I didn't realize that maybe I was spending my time more wisely and carefully until I glanced at the clock and thought "Well okay, it's not 7 yet, I can write for this long and then I need to go do this, this, and this." If that is what working so much is going to teach me, then BRING IT. I am so excited.

Doing what I do for work tests my cheerfulness sometimes, though. It can be really, really tedious, but sometimes tedious in the way that the sound of someone's screechy alarm going off gets old fast. But every day is a little different, so I do my best and try to be patient for better, and grateful for what I have. And if that's what I need to learn right now, then well, bring that too.

This whole job thing has been extraordinary, though. My car is not fixed yet, and even once it was, the best I could come up with was going to be getting two (low paying) part time jobs and take out an additional loan for school, if I needed it. However, I have prayed and prayed that I would be able to go back to school next semester, that I would not be a burden, that I would not have to go into greater debt. And then, the day after I paid my tithing, Mom told me there was a position open at her office and that she would put in a good word for me. So here I am before you, an office assistant making $10/hr, working full-time, with no gas expenses because I ride with Mom. That's WAY better than anything I could come up with.

All in all, I am completely in awe of God and His powerful goodness in the life of one small person -- me.

Can I just get this figured out already, please?

So here's the deal.

I go to a wonderfully cheap private school -- most of my school expenses are paid by donations before they even send me the bill. (Awesome, no?) Therefore, my tuition for next semester -- 12+ credits -- is $1530.

My beloved apartment is cheaper over the summer, so housing is about $700.

Because I am a single college co-ed, I can afford to eat for about $25 a week, and with, what, 14 weeks in each semester, that comes to $350.

Books are variable, but a safe average is $500. Thank goodness I can sell them back.

For the first time, I will be buying a one-way ticket. Basically, I don't know for sure when I'm coming back, and it's less to pay up-front. Judging by the price I can get right now, and adding the shuttle from the airport, that's about $200. I have about $225 right now, so I could pay for this right this second if I needed to. (Gas money would be nice though.)

So my expenses for next semester come to a total of $3280. Subtract from that my federal student loan for the semester and that goes to $1968. I figured out that if I make about $5.50 an hour, work 20 hours a week, and work for 10 weeks, I can pay tithing and make $1000 by the time I go back to school. That leaves another $1000 to figure out so that I can pay for next semester.

My options: two jobs this winter, and a job during the semester, and an additional student loan.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Wait a sec ---

God loves me.

We can do this.

Edit: Dad loves me, too. Apparently, we three can do this. I get the feeling that things will be okay.