Mysteries, Yes

I was strolling through the bookstore on my way to buy chocolate caramels for a friend, when a section of poetry books stopped me.  Mary Oliver caught my eye, and I picked up a book of her poems.  I flipped through the pages, reading some, liking them, but not feeling justified spending $14.00 to buy them until I read this one:



Mysteries, Yes


Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
  to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the
  mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
  in allegiance with gravity
    while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will
  never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
  scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
  who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
  "Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
  and bow their heads.



I tucked the book under my arm and carried it with me to the candy counter.  I purchased the poems and the chocolates, and headed out of the store, passing a book about the history of women's shoes and popping a chocolate caramel into my mouth, wondering if there is anything in this wide world that someone hasn't written a book about.

Dear Parkway Authority

On the evening of January 27^th, I switched cars with my brother – he took the Toyota Camry I usually drive, and I took the ’86 Nissan pick-up he usually drives – so he could have a respectable car to go to an interview and then on a date.  I parked the truck outside my residence, and he drove off with the Camry.  I completely forgot that the Camry had a parking permit sticker, and the truck did not.

The next morning, I left my apartment to go to work.  I hopped in the truck, turned the key in the ignition, and …. nothing.  The car wouldn’t start; instead there was just an ominous clicking sound.  I was going to be late for work, so I arranged a ride and resolved to deal with the broken truck later.  I finished my shift at work, went straight to class, and later that night when I finally finished everything I needed to do on campus, returned home.  Before going inside I decided to check on the truck to see if the battery had somehow miraculously recharged itself.  And that is when I found the boot.

The moment I saw it I realized my folly: the magic little parking sticker on the Camry flashed into my memory, the total absence of such a sticker on the truck suddenly so obvious.  I called the number on the warning taped to my driver’s side window, and the really nice guy who answered walked me through the process of getting it taken off and submitting an appeal.  He even told me it was likely that the agent who removed the boot would have jumper cables and could help me get the truck started (which did in fact happen, the next day – Thank you, Ta’an).

So, here I am.  I moved the car to a legal parking area until I can switch back with my brother, then came to campus to make copies of my receipts, write this note, and work on the necessary paperwork for this appeal.  I’ve learned my lesson – that Nissan truck will never again grace the pavement of the residence parking lot, at least not without its own parking permit – but I would really appreciate as many of the sixty-three dollars back as possible, seeing as next week I have to pay rent. 

  Please be merciful and generous. 

                                                                     Thank you,

                                                                                Annie

a few glimpses of this christmas

Two days before Christmas, I sat in the family room, reading, all morning.  The house was quiet.  Periodically, someone would knock on the door: a neighbor, bearing jam or fudge or bread.  Neighbor would walk away with a bag of Chex-mix, and I would return to the couch, pull my legs under me, and open my book up again.

We woke up on Christmas morning to a mantle of quiet whiteness: snow, finally.

Ben and Wayne made each other laugh so many times.

I got to sleep under the softest down comforter, on top of the firmest futon mattress, in the dark basement, surrounded by boxes and boxes of stuff we are organizing as a Christmas gift for my mama.

My uncle Steve said something particularly hilarious, and I watched as my dad, overcome with funniness, sank to his hands and knees, then picked himself back up, eyes still squinted and mouth still open in a full-lunged bout of laughter.  One of my favorite things is watching my dad laugh, and there is no one that can get him going quite like his little brother Steve.

a short list of things that have made my heart happy

1. hearing my grandmother's voice over the phone.  she told me I am in the richest part of my life, and you know what, I believed her.

2. Handel's Messiah.  I'm playing in a community orchestra for a Messiah sing-in.  the work is simply glorious.  did you know: Handel composed it in his best clothes because he felt he was going before his Maker, creating an offering to God.  a line that struck me tonight was this: "He is the King of Glory".

3. this song.

Addendum to the last one

I feel like I forgot to say one of the most important things about making decisions: that God loves us, cares about our lives and decisions, and both wants to and will help us and guide us.  He's promised us that.  Seek and ye shall find.  I will send you my comforter.  The Holy Ghost "will show unto you all things what ye should do" (2 Nephi 32:5).  We can trust in His promises and in His guidance.  He will nudge and help us along, because He knows us perfectly and has it all figured out.

We are so lucky He doesn't make all our decisions for us, and that He doesn't give us everything we think we want.

How Long Halt Ye?

There was a wonderful Sister in my mission who once told me, "Lately I've been doing this thing where I make up random spiritual gifts and then pray for them."  In addition to making me laugh, her comment struck me as a legitimately fantastic idea.  It reminded me of something George Q. Cannon said -- that we ought to pray and fast for the spiritual gifts we need.

Lately I've been praying for the gift of decisiveness.

I've always admired decisive people -- people who know what they want.  I tend to struggle with knowing what I want, and I often agonize over decisions.  A recent life experience got me thinking about all this, so I studied, and I've made some discoveries:

1.  Learning to make decisions is a heritage that goes all the way back to the garden of Eden.

It's kind of what mortality is all about.

God didn't make everything cut-and-dried for Adam and Eve.  He gave them options with consequences and required that they choose (See Moses 3:15 - 4:32).  Interestingly, He required that they choose without fully understanding everything about the situation.  This is something that paralyzes me sometimes -- feeling like I have to make a choice without all the information I want.  But I'm beginning to see that that's kind of the whole point sometimes.  Stepping into the dark.  Doing a trust-fall with God.  It seems to be pretty important to Him that we learn to do that.

He created "things to act and things to be acted upon" (2 Nephi 2:14), and as His spiritually begotten children we are at the top of the list of creatures who are expected to act.  "The Lord God gave unto man that he should act for himself" (2 Nephi 2:16).  He gave us that.  It's a responsibility but also a privilege, and we have to (get to!) figure it out, because it's central to becoming like Him.

2.  Some things really don't matter.

There are a LOT of decisions that really don't matter very much.  More than we tend to think (at least in my case.)  In Doctrine and Covenants there are many instances in which the Lord gives directions like this: "These things remain with you to do according to judgment ..." (D&C 62:8), or "...then you may return ... as seemeth you good, it mattereth not unto me; only be faithful ..." (D&C 62:5).

I think the Lord puts the decision-making firmly in our mortal hands almost all the time, encouraging us to make decisions, act on them, and learn from the process.  When it comes to choices between equally good things, He's not secretly hoping we choose one or the other, eager to punish us when we mess up.  He's just happy to see us growing, moving forward, making things work.

And, frankly, there are details that probably don't matter much to Him.  Like, when Jesus forgave sinners, He said, "go, and sin no more" (John 8:11).  He didn't say, "go, and major in accounting, and marry your neighbor's son, and name your children Zach, Harry, and Lela."  The decision to "sin no more" is really important.  The rest, well, it's way more flexible.

3.  Some things really do matter.

And when they do, we'll have the direction we need.  Boyd K. Packer taught that we will never be allowed to make a wrong decision without being warned by the spirit.  Whether we heed that warning or not falls to us, but God is NOT trying to confuse us.  Ever.  "For God is not the author of confusion but of peace" (1 Corinthians 14:33).

Also, He's made it pretty clear what is most crucial by giving us commandments.  As long as we are aligned with those, we can be confident we are doing right things.  Love God and His children.  Obey God's laws.  Focus on His approval above anyone else's, and remember that charity never faileth.  If those types of guiding principles don't make one of two good choices more obvious, the decision is probably a win-win.

This idea is expressed in 1 Kings 18:21: "...how long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him."  That matters.  Don't sweat the rest.

4.  God does not intend for fear to be a factor in decision-making.

This is one of the most repeated messages in all scripture.  "Fear not" (this two-word command appears at least seventy-eight times in the standard works).  "Be not afraid, only believe" (Mark 5:36).  "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind" (2 Timothy 1:7).   "Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not" (D&C 6:36).

Fear can lead us to feel paralyzed.  And paralysis was never God's intention for us.  In fact, paralysis is akin to damnation (the state of being damned, or stopped from moving forward).  If we are resisting decisions, we are being acted upon instead of acting.  Thus, a courageous decision to act in the face of fear is a very godly thing.

My grandma LaMyrl wisely told me once that sometimes the only way out is through.  At times, the decision-making atmosphere feels murky.  So we make choices and take steps forward and course-correct as needed and trust in God.  We press on with gratitude and creativity and initiative and resolve and we create something beautiful with each precious day.  Before long we see that much of the murk has cleared.

Whatever we can do to shed fear will dissipate the clouds around our decisions.  That being said, I want to clarify that I'm not a proponent of recklessness.  I think of decisiveness as a spectrum -- we want to be in the middle:

Reckless---------------------Thoughtfully Decisive------------------------Inert

Sometimes the right course of action is to wait; sit with something; let it percolate until the moment when the spirit says, "Go!".  But there is an important difference between confidence-based patience and fear-based immobility.

5.  There is something to be said for sticking to your guns.

Credit on this one goes to my roommate, who came home a few weeks ago after ending a relationship and proclaimed, "It feels really good to stick to your guns."

I love this verse in 1 Corinthians 14:8: "For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle?"  One element of decisiveness is refusing to be wishy-washy once we've thoughtfully chosen a course of action.  This gives confidence to all who are affected by the choice, especially ourselves.

"Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily" (Colossians 3:23).    It takes courage sometimes to not second-guess, but it feels good.  Charles Swift (my good friend's dad) said, "Make a decision, then make it the right decision."  We can't live our lives constantly looking back and wondering, "what would have happened if...?".  Let's have a little confidence in ourselves and in God that we are making good decisions, doing the best we can, and that the future is full of good, good things.  Because, honestly, it is.  Especially if we decide it is.  I mean, we get to create it.

So, your thoughts? How do we cultivate decisiveness?

This Is Mortality

"Don't you ever feel that way?," my roommate asked me the other day, "Like, you're tired and stressed and sweaty and something goes wrong, and it's just like, this is mortality."

My roommate Elizabeth says all sorts of pithy, interesting things like that, all the time.  It's so instructive and fun to live with her.

Anyway.  She's right.  This Is Mortality.

We are made from the dust of the earth.  Our bodies tire, our minds become weary, our hearts hurt sometimes.  We get sick and we get better and we mess things up and we say stupid things to people we love and we cry and we feel lost and we get excited about small things and big things and we love each other and we try to improve and we laugh and we get bored and we forget things and we smell bad sometimes and we have to eat and sleep like all the time.  We are mortal.

And there are great things about being mortal.  Like how this week it finally got pretty cold.  It's amazing to me how it gets colder and you feel it -- your body all the way through can tell it's cold  and reacts and tenses up and you think, "It's cold!!"  Isn't it cool to feel that?

Or how sleeping actually rejuvenates you.  Isn't it incredible that you can "power down" for like 8 hours and emerge with greater clarity and energy and renewed motivation?  (Usually.)

Or wind.  You know how when it's really windy and you can feel it literally pushing against you?  Mortality is bizarre but it's also really awesome.

Having other mortals around is such a comfort, too.  I'm constantly struck with the quiet greatness of the people who surround me.  I mean, they are just themselves, but they are so exquisite.  Humans are just amazing creations.

Because, I mean, where I'm really going with this is the fact that, yes, we are mortal, but there is that within us which is ETERNAL.

"We are made of the stuff of eternity.  We are eternal beings, children of the Almighty God." (Uchtdorf)  It is no wonder that we feel like "strangers and pilgrims on earth" (See Hebrews 11) sometimes.  Mortality is awesome but it's not the final destination.  Remembering that makes it all the better for its fleeting, poignant glory.

Anyway.  These thoughts are not eloquent, organized, or even really finished, but I need to go read my Physical Science textbook.  This is mortality, after all.