My Special Tribute

Little things make a difference. That's the lesson I learned today. Two weeks ago to the day I wrote a letter to my grandparents, just to tell them what I admired about them and how much I love them. Mostly I had to write it because I never seem to tell them when I'm around them. The truth is I don't enjoy being around them very much. You know how it is, slow, boring conversation when you'd rather be watching T.V. or relaxing at home. To be honest I avoid them whenever I come home because I don't want to sacrifice the time. Wow that sounds horrible. All the same, I do respect them and love them, and am much better expressing that in writing. So I sent a letter and forgot about it.

This morning I gave them a call and asked if they were going to church, thinking if I went with them on this trip home, I'd see them without actually having to talk to them all that much. They were delighted, and turned it into inspiration because they haven't been going to church for a while and this was the push they needed. Well that's neat, and it also gave me someone to go to church with. So there we were, sitting in fast and testimony meeting as just about every kid in primary got up to bear their testimonies, when the thought popped into my head how it would mean so much to my grandparents if I bore my testimony. I dismissed the thought however, and smiled happily as one kid after another "knew the church was true and loved their families." But when the tides of testimony bearing kids slowed and long pauses came between speakers, I went into missionary mode and started wondering what I could talk about if I got up. Well it's all downhill once that thought process gets started, and I knew I would eventually go. I did, and I rambled unfeelingly about this and that, then sat down with a feeling of incredulity and slight embarrassment that I'd done it. Grandpa squeezed my hand and grandma gave me a hug, so I knew that to them, at least, I was still a hero. Well, even more of a hero, turns out.

Because then Grandpa got up, and I guess I just wasn't prepared for what was coming. Have you ever had a testimony born about you? It's an odd feeling. I understand why I'm famous in this small town-I've got a couple of men over the age of 50 that really love me and they tell everyone about it. Well, my grandpa got up to the pulpit and testified of how great I am, how grateful he is that I'm in his life (very nice), how he loves all his grand kids but I'm just really special, and even told how when I got home from my mission everyone wanted me to speak in church and some parents actually called for their sons wondering if they could set us up. It was a wonderful testimony. How do you respond to that? I had everyone in the audience turning to look at me, smiling at me; oh my gosh, it was amazing. I've never been so uncomfortable. But it meant a lot to me too.

We went back to their house, and though I thought it would be nice to talk with them for a bit, I vowed not to get sucked in for too long. I really did enjoy talking to them. They told me some things about their past, told some stories, told about ranching and how that was going. Then they started talking about the letter I sent them. For nigh unto half an hour they told me how much it meant to them, tears involved, how it was perhaps the nicest letter they've ever gotten and my grandpa even confided in me that he wanted me to read that letter on his big, last day...at his funeral. Wow. There was a lot more talking, I stayed about an hour longer than I meant to and I was ready to go when I finally made it out. But you know, I really was touched. I don't know what I've done to impress these people so much, but its nice to know that I do mean so much to them. And that something so simple as a little letter can impact them for months.

I just had to write about this because it's the only thing that got me through the whole day-thinking about explaining it and yes, mocking it slightly. It's so hilarious, in a way. But also so sweet and touching. It just shows that with a little effort on our part, we can make a huge difference in the lives of others. So the moral of the story is: write your grandparents! you have no idea how much it will mean to them.

My Deepest Desire

So I finally found it. About a year ago I asked myself a question, and I hadn't found the answer until somewhere in the past month, when I finally realized how simple and straightforward everything was. I asked myself what it is that I really want in life; what I would do if I could do anything, or what I want to have more than anything else. I tried being both selfish and unselfish, but for a long time was unable to think of anything I wanted so badly that I could claim it was my deepest desire. I wondered if I was just too casual in life-not really fighting for anything or trying to get anything out of life. What, I wondered, am I fighting for? What am I seeking? I really didn't know.

There are lots of things I want. I have lists of material things I hope to have some day (just so I don't forget); I have goals to help me achieve all those future plans of mine, but to what end? Why do I want to be married, have a family, help people in need, make a difference in the world...what's the point?

I don't know how or when the answer came to me, and it's not really that complex or even unusual. Actually, I think this is the basic, instinctive desire of just about everyone, or at least all the people I know. The purpose behind all of my actions, and my deepest desire, is peace.

Well that's a shocker. So anticlimactic. Isn't that the infamous beauty pageant answer for what the girls want most:"world peace"? So it's true then. Peace is the motivating factor; peace is the hoped-for end result. There a couple of manifestations of peace. I want, first and foremost, inner peace-peace with myself. That sounds selfish, and probably is, but after all, I am the most important person in my life. In a talk in church a couple weeks ago, a really neat point was made. The speaker said that there are over 6 billion people on the earth, and there are 6 billion different worlds. We each live in our own worlds, and what I see is just a product of what I want to see.

I want to be happy with what I see. I want to live without regrets. I don't want to fail to act on impulses because I'm scared, and miss out on what life has to offer. More importantly, I don't want to go against what I know is right and feel that regret, that self-loathing that comes from falling short of my potential. I've seen enough of the tempting substitutes for happiness, and felt enough of the pain that comes with them, to know that down those paths lie only sorrow and pain. I really want to do what's right, corny as it may sound, because when I do, when I align myself with God and feel His acceptance and approval of my life- then I feel the greatest peace I've found on earth. Nothing can top that. Why I constantly fight against that peace, I don't know. But when I can trust in the Lord and accept whatever He sends my way, I find strength and happiness no matter what's happening around me. Then I don't worry about the future; I feel no anxiety for events in my life or things not working out the way I want them to. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you." That's the beauty of the gospel.

I want peace for my family. I want to know that they're okay, that they're happy. Why can't they be happy? There is so much confusion, heartbreak, disappointment. I love them so much, and I try to help. I try to be strong for them, always happy, words of encouragement. I "preach" to them about following their dreams and not being afraid to seize the day...things I think could help them be happy. That's all I can say to them; the unfaltering source of peace that I know, the peace and the purpose that only God can bring, somehow I can't talk to them about that. Yet it's the only thing in my mind that makes any of this worth it. I can't force that on them, and it kills me sometimes to hear their struggles and not have anything to say; to feel the despair and hear the questions about why certain things happen, and not be able to explain that, to me, the question of "why" is unanswerable and, in the end, irrelevant. I don't understand the "why" to a lot of things, but somehow I've found this ultimate source of peace that says why doesn't matter, if I can just get some help with the how of dealing with it. Once again, my source of peace is through the Savior and the knowledge that God loves my family as much as I do, and will help them just as He's helped me.

I also want world peace. *round of applause* I really do. When I feel these moments of true joy and happiness and peace (I wish I had a synonym for peace because I realize I've written it about 100 times), I have so much desire to share that with others. I want to help them overcome the things I've overcome. I want people to know of the goodness that is in life. And yet...there is so much badness, and I've never tasted of that. I don't know how to combat the horrible things people have gone through; my puny experiences pale in comparison to the sufferings of the world, and I don't know how to attempt to heal the pain that exists. But I want to. When I think of people who grow up with nothing; who suffer every day of their lives from lack of food or water or love; who live each day, fighting for survival while at the same time wanting nothing more than to die; I know I have to do something. I've been given so much, and somehow I should be able to take that and give a little back. While I have no idea what to do with my life, this gives me direction- knowing that somehow, whatever I do, my career needs to focus on one of these needs.

So it's not that I can envision a world of perfect peace and harmony stemming from anything I do. I just finally understand that all of my actions have at the core this idea of peace: peace with myself, with the people around me, with whatever part of humanity and life that falls into my little world-bubble. Seeking this has helped me see times when I fight against that peace, when I do things that bring frustration, anger, blame, and animosity towards others. I feel these bad things, and I realize I've gotten off track. At a fireside this amazing woman taught that pain is important because it tells us that something that we're doing is bad. If we bang our head against a wall, it hurts-thus we know to stop banging our head against the wall. I've tried to apply that to life and found it pretty true. When I'm in pain, usually there's some stupid thing I'm doing..more often than not just a silly thought process that pulls me down, and I need to start over again to get back up again.

The return to the root is peace.

Peace:to accept what must be,

to know what endures.

In that knowledge is wisdom.

Without it, ruin, disorder.

~Tao Te Ching

I'm not a Wanderer

I just got back from an amazing run on the rain-soaked streets of Provo and I feel great. Today was a beautiful day and the night was no exception. There’s a smell that comes with rain that’s so invigorating. I felt invigorated, at least, enough to be out a lot longer than I had planned. And in that time I got to thinking. There’s a lot of uncertainty ahead; a lot of -I don’t have a clue where I’ll be in two months and that’s slightly frightening. I have all these plans, and it’s coming down to the time when I have to decide one way or the other.

Well, tonight as I was walking around to cool down, I thought about some of these plans. I thought of Alaska; of how two people have called me about a job there and I still haven’t called them back. I want to go. It’s been a goal of mine for years now, to live in Alaska for a while and check out the wilderness. What better time than now? That’s what I keep telling myself to try to outweigh the regret I feel about things I’ll miss out on if I go. My best friend having her first baby; a real family reunion with people I haven’t seen in years and other family members I’m just starting to get to know; a lot of new friends that would be really awesome to have around this summer; and anything else that goes on that I’ll be too far away to even hear about…so many things. While these thoughts twirled around in my head, I reasoned with myself that there will always be things to miss out on. But I can’t not live my life, right? Then I started thinking about the Peace Corps, and how I want to join that in 6 months. That’s a huge commitment; a whole lot of missing out on things and not being a part of people’s lives. If I can’t even decide about Alaska, how can I leave for two years? But in those two years I’ll be shaping my life. It is a dilemma.

So while I thought about this, and felt the familiar rain softly fall around me, this wonderfully obvious realization spread through me.

I am not a wanderer.

I like feeling like I belong. That’s what I want. I have all these great ideas of traveling; I feel inspired by that Bob Seger song, and especially the lines

“Stood on a mountain top staring out at the great divide. I could go east I could go west it was all up to me to decide. Then I saw a young hawk flying and my soul began to rise. And pretty soon my heart was singing-Roll, roll me away wont you roll me away tonight. Gotta keep rollin gotta keep riding till I finally find whats right. And as the sunset faded I spoke to the faintest first star light next time, next time I'll get it right”

I love that. I really do. I am at a cross-road; my life is in my hands, and I can do anything with it. That’s so incredible. And daunting. And while I do dream big dreams, and plan big plans, I’m much more of a dreamer than an acter, and I think that all I really want is a home, with people that love me and things that are familiar. I want to belong somewhere. I’m getting to know Provo on a much deeper level than I have before, and I love it. But Provo’s not home and never could be. The problem is - no where is home. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. And maybe this is my wandering time, where I drift along, trying out new places until I find something that’s right. But if there were ever a time when I wished I had someone I trusted unquestionably with my future, that I could ask exactly what I should do with myself and where I should go, it would be now. Not that now is a particularly hard time to decide, or I’m faced with anything out of the ordinary in life’s unending quest for surety and confirmation. It’s just that right now I have decisions to make, and I’m too lazy and indecisive to make them.

At least it’s somehow comforting to come to this definition of myself, that I don’t want to wander my whole life; that I do want a place that claims me.

Sometime I'll get it right.