It had been a bad day, a worse week, and a difficult year in general. It felt like I was being pummeled by life at every turn, and I had very little energy left to give any of myself with any sort of grace. Just the night before, I had laid in bed sobbing, "I can't do do this. I can't do this. Please help me." My wells were all dried up and everything in my life felt like absolute drudgery. After crying myself to sleep, I woke up and started the day again, mostly because I had no choice. I felt like a rat on a wheel that couldn't step off because it was just going too fast, and whose legs just kept running with very little brain connection. I got the kids out the door and began doing my myriad of daily errands and responsibilities, mostly on autopilot, not really fully conscious of where I was going and what I was doing. Then something remarkable happened. Remarkable, in the smallest of ways, yet so profound to me. I was walking up an indoor flight of stairs where at the top, there was very tall, floor to ceiling windows. As I got to the top step and looked out, everything slowed, almost as if in slow motion. In front of me was a pristine field of snow with millions of snow flurries coming down, and for an instant, I was sure I could see each snowflake's journey to join it's friends on the blanket below. I took turns for a while starting at the top of the window and choosing a snowflake to follow, down, down, down to rest on a blanket of crystals. I smile now, thinking back on it, wondering what the passers by must have thought seeing me transfixed in front of a window, tracing a snowflake's journey down to the ground. Hopefully, they were too busy to notice me. I was completely transfixed at the beauty of something so simple and minute as an individual snowflake, and also strangely jealous at the freedom they had to be tossed to and fro in the light wind and that their only responsibility was to be their own individual, beautiful self. I wanted to be a snowflake, if only for a moment. And then a whisper came into my mind with very distinct words, "Just Be", it said. And then I heard it said again, "Just Be." I thought, "What do you mean, just be?" The words jolted me back into reality as I pondered their meaning. I looked out again at the sparkling field and how it represented so many seemingly opposite things: simple and complex, the weakness of one snowflake, but the strength of an army of snowflakes, how absolutely quiet it was outside, but how blaring the noise of worry was in my head. I kept saying those words in my head, "Just Be," and slowly, all of my fears, worries, questions, thoughts, and burdens started flowing out of me. Within a few minutes, I felt light and care free, like the snowflakes were. I was somehow renewed and energized. I can't really put it into words even now how or why those words affected me the way they did, or why the vision of the snowflakes falling transformed me like it did, but they were just the words I needed to hear, and just the sight my soul thirsted for, and they both spoke to my soul and freed me temporarily from the weight of life. How strange that something that you can't really understand with your mind, can be comprehended fully by your spirit and your heart. I was so thankful that day that Heavenly Father picked me up, dusted me off, and reminded me that I was loved and remembered, and that everything in my life was going to be just fine. Since then, nothing much has changed as far as the burdens of life, but when I lose perspective and start feeling like it's too hard and I am overwhelmed, those words come back into my mind along with the vision of the snowflakes falling, and I am made light again.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Just Be
It had been a bad day, a worse week, and a difficult year in general. It felt like I was being pummeled by life at every turn, and I had very little energy left to give any of myself with any sort of grace. Just the night before, I had laid in bed sobbing, "I can't do do this. I can't do this. Please help me." My wells were all dried up and everything in my life felt like absolute drudgery. After crying myself to sleep, I woke up and started the day again, mostly because I had no choice. I felt like a rat on a wheel that couldn't step off because it was just going too fast, and whose legs just kept running with very little brain connection. I got the kids out the door and began doing my myriad of daily errands and responsibilities, mostly on autopilot, not really fully conscious of where I was going and what I was doing. Then something remarkable happened. Remarkable, in the smallest of ways, yet so profound to me. I was walking up an indoor flight of stairs where at the top, there was very tall, floor to ceiling windows. As I got to the top step and looked out, everything slowed, almost as if in slow motion. In front of me was a pristine field of snow with millions of snow flurries coming down, and for an instant, I was sure I could see each snowflake's journey to join it's friends on the blanket below. I took turns for a while starting at the top of the window and choosing a snowflake to follow, down, down, down to rest on a blanket of crystals. I smile now, thinking back on it, wondering what the passers by must have thought seeing me transfixed in front of a window, tracing a snowflake's journey down to the ground. Hopefully, they were too busy to notice me. I was completely transfixed at the beauty of something so simple and minute as an individual snowflake, and also strangely jealous at the freedom they had to be tossed to and fro in the light wind and that their only responsibility was to be their own individual, beautiful self. I wanted to be a snowflake, if only for a moment. And then a whisper came into my mind with very distinct words, "Just Be", it said. And then I heard it said again, "Just Be." I thought, "What do you mean, just be?" The words jolted me back into reality as I pondered their meaning. I looked out again at the sparkling field and how it represented so many seemingly opposite things: simple and complex, the weakness of one snowflake, but the strength of an army of snowflakes, how absolutely quiet it was outside, but how blaring the noise of worry was in my head. I kept saying those words in my head, "Just Be," and slowly, all of my fears, worries, questions, thoughts, and burdens started flowing out of me. Within a few minutes, I felt light and care free, like the snowflakes were. I was somehow renewed and energized. I can't really put it into words even now how or why those words affected me the way they did, or why the vision of the snowflakes falling transformed me like it did, but they were just the words I needed to hear, and just the sight my soul thirsted for, and they both spoke to my soul and freed me temporarily from the weight of life. How strange that something that you can't really understand with your mind, can be comprehended fully by your spirit and your heart. I was so thankful that day that Heavenly Father picked me up, dusted me off, and reminded me that I was loved and remembered, and that everything in my life was going to be just fine. Since then, nothing much has changed as far as the burdens of life, but when I lose perspective and start feeling like it's too hard and I am overwhelmed, those words come back into my mind along with the vision of the snowflakes falling, and I am made light again.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
A Love Note of Sorts
My Dearest Farmington 10th Ward Family,
I wanted to get up during testimony meeting today and say this, but I knew I'd cry too much and make a fool of myself so I thought I would at least write what I wanted to say. I have never been in a ward that I love quite as much as you. You are composed of loving, wise, and strong people, and have accepted and loved our family unconditionally. You have given me a place to belong, when I never really felt I did before. You have allowed me to be myself and even loved me for it. You have taught me and my family and made us feel like we are a part of an extended family. I appreciate days like today where someone taught an insight in Sunday School that I had never really thought of before, which is my very favorite gift to receive--seeing something in a new and better way. You give us a safe place to learn and grow, and be vulnerable. There are times I have been strong while attending, and times I have been broken while attending and you have loved and accepted me all the same. I have learned so much from many of you. Your smiles are warm and inclusive every week and you welcome us with open arms. We feel we have found so many good friends here, and others which we don't know so well, but admire from a distance. I have even found my own personal Saint in this ward, Saint Teresa who has become a sort of mentor to me. She has been through more than anyone else I have ever personally met, and has emerged with incredible amounts of grace, dignity, wisdom, and love. It is people like her that are so Christ-like that make up this ward. And I thank you so very much.
Love,
Me
I wanted to get up during testimony meeting today and say this, but I knew I'd cry too much and make a fool of myself so I thought I would at least write what I wanted to say. I have never been in a ward that I love quite as much as you. You are composed of loving, wise, and strong people, and have accepted and loved our family unconditionally. You have given me a place to belong, when I never really felt I did before. You have allowed me to be myself and even loved me for it. You have taught me and my family and made us feel like we are a part of an extended family. I appreciate days like today where someone taught an insight in Sunday School that I had never really thought of before, which is my very favorite gift to receive--seeing something in a new and better way. You give us a safe place to learn and grow, and be vulnerable. There are times I have been strong while attending, and times I have been broken while attending and you have loved and accepted me all the same. I have learned so much from many of you. Your smiles are warm and inclusive every week and you welcome us with open arms. We feel we have found so many good friends here, and others which we don't know so well, but admire from a distance. I have even found my own personal Saint in this ward, Saint Teresa who has become a sort of mentor to me. She has been through more than anyone else I have ever personally met, and has emerged with incredible amounts of grace, dignity, wisdom, and love. It is people like her that are so Christ-like that make up this ward. And I thank you so very much.
Love,
Me
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