I had the most beautiful experience last week while singing at Sister Francis Monson's funeral with the choir. Since then, I have come to more fully appreciate that moment, and I'm only sure I will appreciate it even more in the days to come.
Experiences in dating have been a roller coaster this year. More so than in previous years, I guess, but it's not like I had experienced that major heartbreak of a few years ago. Just lots of smaller ones. Some my own doing, others not.
But this particular one was sitting right on that tender part of my heart for some reason, and I had been praying to my Heavenly Father to know what to do. For quite a while now, I have slowly become friends with this particular guy. There have been times I was more interested than others, but suddenly for me, there had been a surge of circumstances and emotions...and pretty strong feelings to go outside my comfort zone and be...well, brave, I guess.
I've always wanted to do the right thing. Does my strength wane at times? Of course. Do I make mistakes? Without question. But my desire to do the right thing has always been there underneath or over it all. I think sometimes that desire somehow turns to fear that I might do the wrong thing.
The night before, I had been praying for some direction...and had the feeling I would know what to do the next day.
So I went to bed, and got up the next morning to go sing at Sister Monson's funeral.
Have I mentioned how deeply, incredibly grateful I am to sing with this choir? The spirit, the opportunities, the music, and the way it feeds my heart and soul are like nothing else I have ever experienced.
I still didn't know what to do, but I wasn't particularly focused on my own troubles during the funeral. I just sang and listened to the sweet messages being shared, and fell in love with their darling angel of a great-grand daughter who sang the sweetest rendition of "My Heavenly Father Loves Me" that I may have ever heard.
And then, during this part...during the tender departure of the family to the cemetary, as we sang "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again," I suddenly had my very own experience, and it took me by surprise.
I very immediately knew what to do. I felt so much light I could almost see it. I knew where I needed to be, I felt my Heavenly Father's love for me and his awareness of my sistuation...mine...and I stood there singing that closing song with tears streaming down my face because of the love I felt.
It was the next day, and I knew what to do. It was as simple as that.
Since that day, I followed through on those things, and I feel like the inital results were GOOD. So, so good.
Of course, to even the score in the world, I have also felt more than enough emotions to verify my existence as a female...as if that were even in question. Welcome to the over-analyzing female brain.
But just right now, in this moment, I am so grateful for a Heavenly Father who knows exactly what needs to happen, and when, and allows us to work through these things. Sometimes with only him, and sometimes with other people around us.
It will all be worth it...so they say. And watching dear President Monson bid farewell to his stalwart, supportive sweetheart, and share it with so many people all around the world made me all the more certain this dating thing isn't so bad. That it is worth it, and that patience and humility, of all the virtues...are what I value most right now. No matter what else happens.
“Humility is selfless, not selfish. It doesn’t demand its own way or speak with moral superiority. Instead, humility answers softly and listens kindly for understanding, not vindication. Humility recognizes that no one can change someone else, but with faith, effort, and the help of God, we can undergo our own mighty change of heart. Experiencing the mighty change of heart causes us to treat others…with meekness. Humility means (we) seek to bless, help, and lift…each other.”
It's incredible to me how my life can be so overflowing with blessings and love and contentment, and with one neatly placed satanic sucker-punch, my vision is distracted immediately to the impending and sometimes lingering, pain.
Heartache, discontentment, loss, frustration...you name it, it can easily feel as if these things are swallowing you whole.
And for me, my whole life, the answer to those things; the healing balm, has been my knowledge of the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ...the whole of it. What it really means. That hearts can be healed, that answers can be found, that peace can take place again, and that unanswered questions are not the end of happiness. This knowledge has been my anchor.
Admittedly, however, I have taken these things somewhat for granted over different periods of my life. I have felt that urge to just do whatever I want, or to let go for just a minute...so the pressure doesn't feel quite so great. Those urges have never lasted long enough to change my mind, but they have done their passing damage along the way. But with each scar comes the opportunity for healing and an addition to my previously existing knowledge that God is real. That he hears me. That he knows me completely, including how to succor me, and most importantly, that he LOVES me. Even when I've let go. Of course it's always best to hold on, to never quit, to keep going no matter what. But I also know that God knows my strength can fail me sometimes.
That said, if I never gave up on God's ability to give me additional strength, or to listen to him when he gives me direction...if I wasn't so occasionally stubborn or tired or weak, or...human...well, I guess I'd be perfect. But I also know that's what I'm here to learn to become.
Last night, during a recording session for the Tabernacle Choir's new CD coming up later this year, I found myself praying and reflecting...a LOT...and every time we'd sing this particular hymn, this line felt like a powerful embrace, and it was so. needed. I found so much of my heart filled to overflowing with gratitude for the love and teaching I felt in those moments. So much of the depths of my heart this fills are because of the past month or so....
My brother suddenly went missing one day just a few weeks ago. Out of the blue. And the whole thing turned out to be a freak accident in the end, and he is all right now, and everything is okay. But...for seven horrifically long, blackest hole dark, heart-wrenching anguish-filled days, he was gone. With no explanation, and with no answers. It's like he just vanished. The horror of not knowing what has happened to someone you deeply love is something I never ever want to experience again, nor can I fathom how families or loved ones make it through years, decades, or even lifetimes without answers about their own loved ones. The idea that might be a reality for me or my family was a pain I couldn't even breathe through. I remember coming home one of those nights, after doing my best to be brave and do everything I needed to do (work, rehearsal, drive on the freeway, eat four bites of a sandwich before it turned to sawdust in my mouth, put on makeup, decide to wash it off, shower, wear deodorant, brush my teeth, stop crying...) and just dropping everything on my bedroom floor and collapsing in pain and just literally wept. I was trying to get the pain OUT. And I prayed and prayed. Eventually, I ran out of tears. And my head was pounding. I felt the need to climb into the comfort of my bed, and did my best to sleep. I never really felt okay. I just felt help getting into my bed that night, and I remember thinking I wished I had a friend to just hug me while I slept. Eventually I fell asleep, and got up the next day and did it all again. I was surrounded by friends and loved ones who were doing everything they could to help, or even just pray...but all I could think about was my little brother who could be out there somewhere all alone, with no one to help or turn to. I knew God knew where he was, but I also knew my brother wasn't all that into religion. I just ached for him. The day he was found was the happiest I can remember in a long, long time. And it wasn't too long after my family closed the fast we had been having to know of his safety. A reminder to trust God? Without a doubt.
The other experience has been just recently. I met someone. He's unlike anyone I've ever spent a lot of time with before. I find him completely fascinating. He's funny and smart and from the second I met him, I liked him. He's not bad on the eyes, either. He made me nervous; the good kind...the butterflies in your stomach kind of nervous. But he was also somewhat closed off...which I later found out comes in part from going through his own kind of recent heartache. I don't know all the details, and for these intents and purposes, they don't matter so much, except...I found myself relating to his heartache, and yet wondering how he coped. He doesn't share any of my beliefs, except acknowledging that there is a God. But in all our conversations, I'm still not sure how he feels about God. As I've spent more time with this man, I've encountered a LOT of questions. "Why do you do this? Why do you not do that? That's ridiculous. That's interesting. That's weird. That's great." Suddenly, questions I have always known and felt the truth of answers to my entire life, feel like they're hitting me in the face for the first time. I would find myself staring at his handsome face, and thinking..."Yeah...I know the answer here, but...hang on...I can't think of why that's the answer right now..." The ultimate frustration for me came when I felt my own resolve weakening, even just a little, and then afterward wishing I had been the perfect example of what I know is real, and true. Yet, through this whole experience, I have never questioned what I knew to be true, but...I have felt the challenge, and the struggle to hold on, to grasp, to really KNOW what I know. I have learned valuable things from this interaction, and also some difficult things. But the most pervasive thing I have felt is a desire to help him really understand what is available to him. Even though it is completely and utterly foreign to him. I never really pictured being interested in someone who did not share my personal religious beliefs, but for the first time in my life, I started wondering how that would ever work...even though that's not a bridge I need to cross right now. I can't shake this feeling that he is important. Maybe not to me personally and forevermore, but...I do know he's important to God. I'm just still working on being "ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you..." (1 Peter 3:15). And knowing also, that we each have our agency, and that is ALSO given to us from a loving Heavenly Father. Being willing to allow him to disagree with me, even if I know it's true. Try that on for size when you think the man standing in front of you is pretty incredible, in spite of your differences...vast as they may be.
These are both very different experiences, but both have led me to build my faith my God. To make my foundation of faith even stronger than it was...because clearly, life will require much. much. more. I need more faith. More resolve. More trust, in my Heavenly Father, who I know is all powerful. My ability to grasp that with my finite mind can, at times, be my downfall. But learning to trust Him over and over again after each time...has also been my strength. It just might be something I'm doing every day for the rest of my life...holding on, and trusting him to lead me and care for me. But I'm also trying to be patient and content with the realization that this all comes one step at a time.
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