I Need[ed] to Feel the Fire Again

Have you ever had one of those moments where you look back and think, "Ahh . . . I really needed that"? This was last week for me. Though I returned to my apartment desperately desiring to do laundry, take a shower, and longing for a good nap, I also returned completely refreshed.

There have been a few moments here and there since my mission that I have felt completely overwhelmed and excited by the Spirit at something that was happening right there and then in my life. Those moments seemed to slip away all too quickly. I just couldn't get a good grasp on that feeling to hold it close forever. I'm not sure it's a feeling that's supposed to be maintained. This is not to say I don't feel the Spirit in my life frequently or even constantly. This is a different feeling. I usually feel the Spirit. I know when to do certain things and when to avoid others through promptings. At least those that I need a little extra help. You know, the whole being proactive in the gospel thing. Again, I've had some wonderful missionary experiences since my mission. I've never really been afraid to share my testimony. . . now that I have one. But this is different. This past week I have had the opportunity to BE a missionary again. Essentially.

So here I am at EFY. Here's how this works: You have a group of youth. You lead by example. You teach them gospel principles. You help them learn to study the scriptures, pray, and develop their own testimonies. You love them.
Sound even slightly familiar? The best part is that you get them 24/7 for an entire week. The worst part is that, after you put all your whole heart and soul into them, after you testify your guts out and do all you can to invite the Spirit, they have to leave. But you let them leave. You do so hoping they can remember, praying for them, and grateful for that one week you had with them.

I absolutely fell in love with my kids last week. It really was like a family to me. My co-counselors were better than I could have hoped to imagine. With my dysfunctional family it's nice, perhaps overwhelmingly wonderful, to feel like an important part of something again. I had that feeling on my mission. A handful of times in my family. Even less in other areas of my life. And while I don't think it's absolutely necessary to feel that feeling of importance outside the gospel plan, it sure is nice. Some people need because of their personalities. Perhaps I'm one of those people. I just love to feel wanted and needed by those around me (for the sake of wanting me around, not for life's sake. If you MUST have me near otherwise you cannot live, well, you have bigger fish to fry, and I don't want to be the one to fry them). I don't need it all the time, but it's a nice little reminder that you do matter to those around you. . . . I digress.

I can't say enough about how much the youth today amaze me. I have experienced actual awe in the past week and a half with my two different companies. It gives me such hope for the future in so many ways. For the world. For this nation. For the Church. For my own family. I love children and want so badly to be a mother some day. I'm terrified. One, because I don't know how that will happen. (Trust me, this concern is fairly legitimate.) And two, because I've never seen real parenting from a mother in my home. Remember: Dysfunctional. I'm concerned I'll screw up my kids. But concern number 2 has resolved quite a bit. I've been able to work fairly well with these youth. This gives me confidence that I might not screw up my kids irreparably. I knew before that no matter what happens in my life, my Heavenly Father, my Savior and the Spirit are always there to lead and guide me in the way I should go. That includes parenting. Definitely. There's no doubt there. But it's a matter of me just not screwing them up. I'm pretty good at messing up the simplest things sometimes, and kids are not simple. Not always.

So this week I have felt relief from a lot of pains in my world, hope for my future, joy at the light these youth have developed or acquired, and a confirmation of my personal faith and testimony. There have been other pains and sorrows. Other concerns. Of course. But the prominent feeling was love and hope.

I am so excited for my next few weeks of EFY. It will be challenging. But it will be worth it. No doubt about it.

Much Like Falling

It took me a few days to figure it out, but I discovered that for the past while I've been in quite a funk. Again. The good news is that school is almost over for me for the year. I have one final left on Wednesday and a 20-page essay on pharmaceutical abuse due Thursday. Then I'm done and it's off to EFY. The term has flown by so quickly, and thank goodness too. Last week I started to panic because the end was closing in so soon and there will still SO many things to finish. Then, one by one, I started to get things done . . . at the expense of a clean bedroom. The end became far less daunting at the end of last week. But still, I've noticed myself pushing people away again. I want to be near them, but not too close. I want them at my comfort level. Not theirs. Not really willing to reach a happy medium either. It got pretty bad, and then I wrapped myself in a book of my own choice finally . . . not school's. I forgot my world and absorbed The Hunger Games, which was fabulous. Both of them. Until I was finished and once again found myself in a funk, not wanting to be alone, but not wanting to be near anyone either. Not knowing what to do. Not wanting to do anything but cry. Then my dad's Father's Day gift came in the mail and it clicked. That's probably a reason why I've been in a funk the past while. My dad is officially in Kansas. He's going to be back in Vegas occasionally, but since I'll be working EFY, I won't see him any of the weekends he'll be home this summer. Unless, by chance, he comes up here for Education Week, but that's unlikely since he just started a new job and, knowing my dad, won't want to take that much time off. It's for the best. I know. But I can't help but be saddened by the idea of not seeing my dad for so long. Yes, it's obvious I'm a daddy's girl. For good reason too. But that doesn't really matter. I'm here alone. My sisters are lucky. They have their own families to take care of. I don't. I'm sure eventually it will all settle and I'll be functional without being overly funk-tional. Ha. Get it? It might take a while. It will probably last until Father's Day. At least, I wouldn't be surprised if it did. But I'll try to work my way out of it before then. That's the goal at least. After that, I'll have EFY to occupy my mind and energies. And I'll be forced to be up all the time. Thank goodness for EFY.

The other good news. Despite my world being flipped and tossed around this term, I may get lucky and pull out A's from all 5 of my classes. I'm not sure about my advanced writing course because there hasn't been much feedback generally. The other 4 I'm fairly certain I have an A. It's possible one could be an A-. Either way, I'm glad I didn't get too distracted, being the only one of my roommates taking classes this term, from pretty much everything that really would have pulled me out of focus. I'm considering this a tender mercy for sure.

When Change and Tears Are Past

He's not even gone yet and I already miss my dad. That's really what this is all about. He was the only person in my life for so long, and the only person whose love I never, in my entire life, doubted. Yes, we've spent long distances and durations apart. My mission is one instance. Another was back in high school. His company shut down the office he was managing and he found another job in northern Cali. It was just the two of us by that time and I didn't really want to move. I was about to be a junior and was already on school #6. My school had Emmy award winning music programs and I didn't think I could leave that behind. I'm not that great at making new friends either. I think that was my greatest fear. I was still in the process of finding me and wasn't willing to start the whole process over again in a new state and school. So I moved in with a friend of mine for my junior year, and then with my sister (who moved back to the area) for my senior year. It was hard for me back then too. Days and weeks would go by where I just wished I could see and hug my dad. That was probably the most depressing time of my life.

There is very little difference in this situation compared to when I was 16. One, I'm older. I suppose I'm an adult now and have pretty much been living on my own for the past 8 years of my life. I'm just so used to being able to take a weekend and go home when I felt like I needed a dad fix. I can't do that anymore. It takes an entire day of driving to get to Kansas. There's no way I'll ever have that kind of time.

Two, I'm slightly more emotionally stable. Slightly.

Three, my testimony was not what it is now. Honestly, I didn't have much of a testimony at all at 16. I just did what I knew I was supposed to and everything was okay. I was 20 when I really started to feel like my prayers were being answered. That was when I first knew that I was a daughter of a loving Heavenly Father. Strange how I always knew my earthly father loved me, but never recognized that as being part of my Heavenly Father's love for me. I'm grateful that I know it now. And while I really don't have the words to express my angst, I know the Lord knows my heart. I thought of just a couple scriptures earlier today that always seem to help.

1. Alma 7: 11-13. Particularly, "Now the Spirit knoweth all things..."

2. Romans 8: 26. "Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered."

While I do not have the words, this is where the Spirit comes to the rescue. I am grateful to finally know my Heavenly Father who fills the voids in my heart when it feels barren. Who always has a shoulder upon which to cry when none is near. Who knows the innermost desires of my soul even when I don't. Whose desire it is for me to be happy when I feel it's impossible. Who strengthens my weary heart as it breaks. Who makes it possible, through His son, for me to have hope when it's hardest to find. And who gave me my family in the first place.

I don't know the next time I'll be able to see my dad, but I'm glad he's my dad. And I will miss him.