God sure puts some big things in small packages sometimes. My roommate has a little shih tzu aptly named Kely (pronounced kay-lee), which means "little one" in Malagasy.
This morning she seemed like she needed to go out so I put her on a leash and we went outside. Some big dogs were outside on somebody's lawn two houses down. They had collars so they obviously belonged to somebody and I assumed they had gotten out. And I just find that irritating. The most irritating thing about it is that it happens all too frequently and the dogs come down to the end of the cul-de-sac where we live and go under the fence.
Kely of course when she saw the dogs started barking because she is a big thing in a little body and isn't afraid of anything just because it is bigger than she is. The other dogs began barking and Kely tugged on the leash ready to chase them away.
"Why not?" I thought. "We are close enough to the house and could escape them if we need to." So Kely and I chased the dogs. Kely loved it and the dogs ran away... All the way home to their yard. So we shut the gate. Hopefully they will stay there! And hopefully they lived there... haha!
So this has really been on my mind a lot lately, this concept of the soft heart and how to soften the heart. I am surprised at how hard mine is sometimes and how quickly it hardens at times. I realize that it is a leftover process that is no longer useful, but once served a preserving and protective purpose. Now though, it is getting in the way and it's function is no longer necessary at least not in the same way.
A soft heart is essential to receive good things, feel good feelings, think good thoughts, feel love, and give love.
At the same time I recognize this, the softening of my heart is much easier said than done. Not only is it like old crusty leather that is beyond repair, but whenever I peel away those hard shell layers to get to the softness underneath, it is raw and bleeding under there still. I'm not sure it is ready for the cover to come off yet. I fear my heart will bleed out before anything could stop its seeping or even gushing at times. I feel like not only do I have to soften my heart but heal its hemophilia and heal the raw wounds that should have already healed long ago, all at the same time. And that is hard.
I started a new book recently, seeking some answers for this process of heart softening, and this stuck out to me:
What is it that pries open a hardened heart? What enlarges and softens the most shriveled of human souls? What is the most desirable, the most delicious, the most joyous above all to the soul? That's easy to answer: It's being flooded with God's love, being awash with His profound acceptance and glory, being encircled and comforted and healed and set free to go and do!"
That is true. When I feel awash with God's love is when I feel motivated and empowered. It is amazing.
"When filled with God’s love, we can do and see and understand things that we could not otherwise do or see or understand. Filled with His love, we can endure pain, quell fear, forgive freely, avoid contention, renew strength, and bless and help others in ways surprising even to us."
Elder John H. Groberg
I hope for all people that they feel the love of God like that, in that Lehi-partaking-of-the-fruit kind of way.
Lately I've been thinking about the concept of letting go. I recently watched the following video that is about a man who lost his wife and three of his children in a car accident when they were hit by a drunk teenage driver.
The man talks about his experience with letting go and finding peace and forgiveness in spite of very difficult circumstances, that would lead me to ask a lot of why questions. It is slightly unfathomable to me to think of a shaking, or defining, experience as something to just let go of, as if it never happened or didn't matter. Because honestly there are things that do matter and do make a difference. In the story of this man who lost several members of his family, that experience changed things. There isn't any going back and pretending that didn't happen when he wakes up in the morning to a cold side of the bed. And I've often thought, how can I deny the experience that shattered the mirror when I cannot deny that the mirror is shattered.
But I realize that in part I think about it wrong. I guess it is just to deny the negative and painful parts. I don't have to deny the shattered mirror i just have to deny that which keeps it shattered. Does one have to be ready for that to happen? Or can it just happen? Did that man just deny what he felt about the loss of his wife and young children? How did he let go of the pain, and loss, and hurt? How in the world does one let go of things that are terrible and unmendable? Or let go of repeated offenses that were purposeful in nature? And how in the world is it as some describe, "just gone" because you "let it go"?
In thinking about this I realize that there is something to be said about the heart in all of this process of letting it go. And I think there needs to be something said of a soft heart as well.
"The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,—
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away
On either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through.
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat—the sky
Will cave in on him by and by."
Edna St. Vincent Millay "Renascence" [1912] last lines
Sometimes my heart feels like that - either pushing the sky apart or being caved in on, and usually the later. And I find it an interesting paradox that the heart that actually splits the sky in two for the face of God to shine through is the soft one. The hard heart is the one that the world caves in on.
But how does one cultivate the soft heart? How can rocky and impenetrable soil be changed to Eden?
I wonder if all people's hearts start out the same? Do they all begin tender and soft? A virgin planting ground that has never seen sorrow, never seen weeds or cracked earth, but never seen lush fruit or goodness either? How does soil that was once fertile and waiting to be tilled get back to that place after drought, natural disaster, and environmental damage? And doesn't that take time?
Of course through the Savior all things are possible, but I find myself asking "Lord, how is it done?" because some things have long lasting effects, some things take a while to heal, some scars never completely fade away, and sometimes it is really something that seems impossible to change, to become new, to live life fully, devotedly, and joyfully.
The Lord told Enos and countless others in not so many words that it, and all things, are done though faith in Him. And this is where I find myself in a predicament because I believe the Savior, I know that he died for me that all wrongs might be made right. I in short have faith in the Son of God. Or do I? Am I doing it wrong? Have I missed the whole point all along? Because I still have hurt and pain that doesn't let me go. How do you just "let go" of something that is there? How do you just ignore when the broken mirror still hasn't been swept, or when it has, there are still shards underneath bare feet? Just let go? I must fail to see something because for some reason knowing that someone can take all pain but doesn't (despite prayers and righteousness) does not make me feel better. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong when the answer always seems to be to give it to the Lord, or let it go. Let it go where??
And in the midst of all, how can I learn to love? Because that is what truly softens the heart. How can I make my heart soft? Because that is what causes things to let go, I think - a soft squishy heart that just lets things bounce off of it, or is able to absorb them. A soft heart can release. A soft heart can find solace. How does the heart soften?
I feel like I have more I should say about this soft heart but I realize that I don't know much about it. The imagery I see is of soft garden soil, sweet new grass, baby's skin, ripe uncut peaches, and the green blanket that my grandmother gave me. The soft heart is a place and it is a feeling to me. It is warm, inviting, never cross, always patient, and its eyebrows are turned up instead of down. At least that's how I imagine the soft heart.
Why do the mountains bring me peace? I have no idea what it is about this place that draws me, but there is something about the majesty or grandeur of mountains and being in them that makes me think of God. I feel him in this place. I feel him outside, but not when I just stand in the front yard... I feel Him more in the quiet stillness of the woods. I feel Him in the looming mountains. I feel Him in rushing water, and in still water. I think it is the largeness and the quiet that makes the difference.
I haven't visited my mission since the year I did my leveling coursework at Tech... April 2009. And it has been so long that I forgot where I was from.
As I drove through the mountains I had this overwhelming feeling of coming home. It was funny because all was suddenly right with the world and I knew which way was up and which way was down. I knew that I had a place an belonged, and that place was mine and I was it's. But I can't really tell anyone that because they wont believe me. I didn't grow up there, I'm not from there, so how can I claim it as my own. It was funny because all it took for this rush of love and belonging was to recognize the mountains and smell the air.
It has been too long because I'd forgotten. I 'd forgotten the smells and the sounds. I once remembered them so well because I'd visit them as I'd fall asleep, pretending to be there because I missed it so much. A lot changes about a person while they are away I suppose because I don't remember the last time I thought about those little things that I once played over and over in my head.
That feeling of being home felt good and it helped things make sense. I know the people from my mission, the ones I taught, the ones that used to come out with us... I know that they love me. And I realized that my mission and the things of my mission are the only times that I truly feel confident about being loved, being wanted, and being worthwhile. I know what I did there mattered. I know that it mattered to those people, and I know that I matter to those people.
And I'd forgotten that is what home feels like. It is unconditional love. It is confidence in being loved, being wanted and being worthwhile. It is confidence in the fact that one matters.
Appreciation of beauty is The ability to recognize and acknowledge beauty, splendor, brilliance, and astute performance in different realms of life.
There is goodness and beauty in all things. Tonight I lit a candle and watched it as it danced and flickered around its wick. It's colors we're brilliant. Fire is a beautiful thing. The blue in it is beautiful, and the light and warmth that come from the flame as it envelops whatever it is burning are pretty amazing too when you think about it. Fire seems to just do when it is supposed to do. Burn.
I thought about the dim light that comes from a small flame. How did people ever use that as their light source? It is so dim compared to the light that I'm used to. And yet it is enough to read by.
I've been waiting for a story to happen to me so I could write a story style post instead of a memoir style post. And what do you know! One happened. But there is a bit of back story that needs to be told first.
I'm an only girl with 3 brothers. I was quite the tomboy when I was growing up. Mother tried to fix my hair at one point but I think she gave up after 3 consecutive years of me asking for a ponytail everyday to school and church. She probably decided to just let it go since it wasn't a battle worth fighting. I've had few crushes in my life, so few in fact that in my almost 29 years I can count them on less than 1 hand.
I college was when I realized that I was an awkward girl who could never really figure out the choreography that is dating. I quickly realized that I was the girl they stuck in the back for a reason. My costume was several sizes too big, my hair stuck out in odd places, and the way I moved was slightly off or behind, just not really with the rest of the group. I always felt like I stood in the back waving my arms until I realized that either the group had moved on or were never doing that move in the first place.
Now I have gotten some semblance of a clue in ensuing years but honestly never thought I would do anything more than get by when it comes to that sort of thing.
I went to the buckle to tag along because a friend was returning a necklace she had bought there that had broken. As the necessary things were done to exchange the necklace, the girl working there decided to make conversation.
"Do you work at the mall?" she asked my friend.
I kind of laughed in my head because Alisha was also very tomboy growing up, and she has a "real job". She doesn't need to work at the mall.
The girl seemed slightly surprised that Alisha didn't work at the mall. She complemented us both on our outfits and then said that The Buckle was hiring! She pulled out a card for each of us and invited us to apply.
If only she really knew me. I think I should stick with my "real job". But thanks for asking!
In sacrament meeting the opening hymn was I Believe in Christ. I sat and listened as the congregation sang and I reflected on what I believe about Christ and why I believe it.
I do know that God has a plan for his children, but I don't think that I understand it very well. Of course I can repeat the vague "His plan is for us to learn to become like him, and to return to live with Him". But repetition of a vague message does not equate understanding. I also believe that Heavenly Father has a plan for me (He must for me by default because I believe He does for others) but I don't know what that plan is at all. And I don't feel comfortable quoting one of the many vague responses because I don't feel like I have sufficient faith in them. I can't help feeling that my individual plan is of no consequence and that my contribution to others and to the collective plan is extremely insignificant. It is actually a painful thing to think of, but I lack both knowledge and skill to either have more meaningful contribution or see how my contributions are meaningful.
I recognize that God's plan by necessity required a Savior and one willing to perform that atoning sacrifice so that "The Plan" (the collective plan and all of the individual plans) could be realized. Without the Savior, Jesus Christ, and his Atonement, there would be no plan.
I know that the Atonement is the answer to all problems no matter how big or how small. I just wish I knew how to access the power of the Atonement more often and to a greater degree.Sometimes I feel like it is the answer, but that I don't know how to come to it. And for whatever reason it just isn't enough to know that it is the answer because I still feel like I am missing something about it. My current "knowledge" of it doesn't fill me like I think it should, or want it to.
Of course all of this leads to faith, or rather a lack of it I suppose. Or at least a lack of the specific kind of faith to draw upon the powers of heaven.
Loving life was a lesson to be learned from Michelle Crossan. I want very much to learn that. I know it has to do with the atonement and sacrificing for people, making others feel wanted, loving people with a pure love. It means giving yourself, being happy with life and with who you are. It means living life in such a way to be happy with yourself. And it is having an infectious smile.
