This weekend we, the students of BYU Provo, danced to the rhythm of thunderstorms and lightning cracks as we made our way to meeting after Sunday meeting, finally having the opportunity to be with our ward after a couple of weeks of temple dedications and stake conferences.
When asked this morning by my good friends in the ward what my weekend consisted of, however, I couldn't remember.
Maybe it's because I've tried to blank out the mindless hours of studying for the three exams I have next week (Heaven Help me!), or the fact that I did at least 839 weeks worth of laundry this weekend... on the last possible day, when I had exactly 0 pairs of underwear left (you're the one that chose to read my blog, don't complain that I talk about my underwear on here) and then explained myself to the ridiculously handsome but rather not-my-type guy (he had to cut our study session short for a dance practice. That's fine, it's just that my type is more the type to say, "I have basketball practice" 80 times a week rather than saying "I have musical-dance practice" even once a week) that I was studying with on Saturday when I had to go change my loads of laundry, and had to make several trips to and from the room in order to get all of my clothes back to my apartment.
I want to be completely honest about the fact that my room is completely covered in piles of folded clothes right now.
I haven't put any of it away yet. Why?
Probably because I enjoy seeing every article of clothing I own out and folded and clean, to remind me that I did in fact accomplish at least half of one of my to-do items this weekend.
Or possibly actually because instead of taking the time to put my clothes away and finish my Spanish essay that is due tomorrow morning (or even start it, if we're being honest... which we are, because this is my blog, and honesty is the only policy I allow here), I decided I wanted delicious soup for dinner on Saturday, which required some preparation and ingredient purchasing and friends to eat it with.
Or that I wanted to go to a random warehouse in the middle of Orem and sort out every Christmas light between the 'cool white' and 'warm white' colors that the city of Orem owns.
Or it could also be the fact that I went to the General Women's Meeting for the church on Saturday night with a good friend and her mom (who will in fact be one of the mothers that my future significant other, whoever he may be, will be required to meet- she's pretty amazing), and went out for the chunkiest, chocolatiest chocolate chip cookie dough shake I have ever had afterwards. One way to my heart is through chocolate therapy.
Also, one of the reasons that my room is still a disaster and I didn't 'get a chance' (make the time AHEM) to clean my apartment could maybe possibly be because on Friday I had an exam review... and then a volleyball game, that I skipped on accident (I had a hard time moving at all on Friday anyways), and then I made friends with some Huh-Lair-Yusss girls in my ward for two hours... and then I had a birthday dinner for a friend.
I've realized that I used to be way more concerned with filled-up weekend evening schedules than I am now. And I am way more anal about my living room and kitchen being spotless all the time. And I am a lot more likely to go to bed and get at least 8 hours of sleep most nights.
I think that means I am growing up. I never thought I would see that day.
Well I realize that this post is jumping between 39 topics and is slightly scattered, but I just wanted to tell one quick story before I turn out my ghetto-duct taped-floor lamp and sleep like the Queen of Sheba (who the hank is she anyways?) under my piles of clean clothing, straight on top of my mattress cover (because no, I have not replaced the sheets yet) (my mom taught me way better than that), and it has to do with... actually nothing super special, really. I just wanted to tell it real fast. Here it is.
I have a friend who opened his heart up to me this weekend.
I learned about his past. It doesn't matter what he told me; what matters is what God taught me about what He has taught me, through what he told me.
Read that sentence two more times and let me know if you understand what I said.
I realized after listening to him, that the Atonement is more than just a story for me now. It's more than something that I talk about because I know what I am supposed to say about it.
Because of the change of heart that I have experienced, when someone I love tells me about the change that they experienced as well, I completely believe them, and I actually see them as new- not as who they used to be, at all. He sat before me, far more pure than I have ever seen him, with his whole past out on the table and his substantial and tangible relationship with the Savior clarifying everything about who he was and what his potential is.
I think before I experienced the Atonement, I may have just said that I saw him as clean.
That's the beauty of knowing what the Atonement is, through experience rather than just word.
I don't see myself as anxious anymore. I am not the scared girl who had multiple panic attacks every day and required pillars of support on every side in order to make it through the basic stages of life. I am not the insecure girl who dislikes who she is and what she looks like and her personality. The Savior changed me. Because I have experienced that change, I now am able to allow others to change. And I can see them more clearly for their potential rather than their past.
Hm. I don't know if this really makes a lot of sense. But it made a big impact on me- the fact that after hearing his story, I saw him as more pure than the person I knew before I heard his story. I was able to reflect on other friends that I have, friends with whom I don't find fault at all for their weaknesses or mistakes from the past. Before I experienced the Atonement, really experienced that 'mighty change of heart,' I think my reactions and opinions may be a bit different towards these people who have taught me so much through their experiences with Christ.
So, now I'm going to snuggle under my favorite lazy blanket, in my delicious clean-laundry smelling sweats, and dream of running marathons and clean apartments and rainy days with cinnamon oatmeal and the cute boys I want to date and the smell of pumpkin pie during the holidays.
But before I do, I'm going to kneel before my Master and my Maker and thank Him for the depth He has given me- for the fact that although it has sometimes hurt to experience it, the molding and shaping and changing has brought me closer to Him and closer to the person He would have me be. And I'm going to ask Him to forgive for my shortcomings of today, and to please make up the difference for my mortal mistakes.
Isn't it nice to have someone who is always able to help us out with that? I love God.
Sleep tight :)
Awww! <3
ReplyDelete