My Favorite Mormon Messages Ever!

I like this one:


And this one:


And this one:


See a theme here?

President Dieter Uchtdorf is my favorite speaker since Elder Neal A. Maxwell died. Is it because his messages mean the most to me? Or is it because listening to him reminds me of being here?


I think it's both.

Prioritizing--My Archenemy

I had the awesome chance to go to the General Relief Society meeting in the Conference Center on Saturday with some sisters from my ward. We sat on about the fifteenth or twentieth row. As the First Presidency, their wives, and the general Relief Society Presidency all entered, I thought about how different their lives are from mine. I thought about all the places they have likely traveled in the last year, the people around the world they have met and come to love, the strangers they have smiled and waved at because being in such a visible calling means they get to do a lot of smiling and waving, even if some days they may not especially feel like it.

Seeing the presidencies in person and being reminded of all they do made me want to approach life with more love. Stop fussing over whether or not I'm doing things "right" and take more time to really see others. The thing that always stops me from following through is indecision about the specifics. How to show love, and to whom, and while doing what? There I go, worrying about myself again.

My biggest problem, I'm noticing, is that I hate, hate, hate having to choose a way to spend the time I've been given when it means I am therefore not choosing every other way I could have chosen. Am I mentally ill? Yes, but let's move on.

In 1949, Thomas Griffith from Time magazine said:

All that mattered, I felt, was my inclination; I saw life as a set of free choices. Only later did it occur to me that every road taken is another untaken, every choice a narrowing. A sadder maturity convinces me that, as in a chess game, every move helps commit one to the next, and each person's situation at a given moment is the sum of the moves he has made before.

In 1990, Ardeth Kapp said:

It is only when you are clear in your mind concerning your values that you are free to simplify and reduce without putting at risk what matters most. Until we determine what is of greatest worth, we are caught up in the unrealistic idea that everything is possible.

Just for the record, I'm clear in my values---I value almost EVERYTHING. What my family and friends want me to do. What "the Church" wants me to do. (Ever wonder who this mysterious "Church" person is?) What my body begs me to do---get more sleep, prepare a meal that isn't cereal now and then. I value nature, exercise, good books, good movies, good housekeeping, funny clips on the Internet, friends, planning vacations I'll never take, researching graduate programs I'll never apply to, organizing my closet, organizing it again, painting pictures, painting my house, downloading iTunes songs, visiting teaching, family time, family history work, developing talents, going to my jobs sometimes. Oh, yes. I'm clear in my values.

In 2010, Julie Beck said:

A good woman knows that she does not have enough time, energy, or opportunity to take care of all of the people or do all of the worthy things her heart yearns to do.

This idea from Boundless makes sense to me, too:

The term "overcommitted" is a misnomer. People who have too many "commitments" (jobs, positions, obligations or even classes) are not overcommitted; they are undercommitted. They do not have enough commitment to any of the tasks and activities to which they have pledged themselves to actually do any of them properly.

These truths make sense, and yet I've been fighting them all my life. It's not all possible? Really?

I have a hard time deciding what to do in absence of a mighty revelation, so I avoid thinking about it altogether and sit on my couch blogging instead of going to work on time. (Sorry to my three poor readers. Maybe this is the kind of problem you want to have---a luxury that moms don't get to whine about when kids are busy setting the house on fire and all your time is used up for you.)

This quote from Neal A. Maxwell hits home, and although he is talking about committing to the gospel, I wonder if it applies to smaller decisions as well---how we will use our time to show our commitment to the gospel:

The absence of a decision to commit is a decision. Of course, indecision does not push us immediately into gross sin, but it renders us ineffective and uninfluential in a world that so much needs committed individuals; as a minimum, we have lost time in terms of the impact we might have had.

This image from one of President James E. Faust's sermons has stayed with me, and I think of it as an analogy for faith, magnifying callings by the Spirit, or, of course, prioritizing:

As a small boy, I remember being intrigued by my grandmother’s magnifying glass, which she used in her old age to read and do needlework. When the glass was in focus, everything I looked at was greatly magnified. But I was most intrigued by what happened when the lens concentrated the sunlight on an object. When it passed through the magnifying glass, the sunlight’s power was absolutely amazing.

I want my time and especially my heart to be so focused on Jesus Christ that what I'm capable of accomplishing in a day is greatly magnified. Scattering sunshine all along my way has been fun, but . . . scattered.

As a follower of the Savior, I know HE should be my only priority, my only value, my only factor in decision-making. When I remember Him more often, maybe I'll start feeling more of that love I sensed as I sat in the Conference Center, watching His servants smile and wave to the crowd.

I'm SO glad it's general conference this weekend. I'm ready for another dose of clarity.

God Wants Me to Be an Introvert

This is my favorite new video from Mormon.org. Why? Because I like that Cassandra Barney is happy to be herself.

As a member of a tight-knit community and committed church group, it can be too easy to fall into the momentum of what everyone else is doing---what others seem to expect a good Christian to be. And it can be easy to lose hope while wasting energy mimicking someone else.

A few years ago I was sitting in church when the Sunday School teacher asked how we recognize a Christlike person. He said they are enthusiastic, energetic, "bubbly."

"Bubbly?" Mr. R whispered.

He and I are far from "bubbly."

It can sometimes seem like the Church of Christ is made for the highly social. Those with less energy need not apply.

A well-meaning friend once asked my friend Emily why she rarely attended church activities outside of the three-hour block and meetings required for her calling. She explained, "I'm kind of an introvert. I'm not really drawn to those kinds of activities."

The other friend responded, "Well, at least you can acknowledge your weaknesses so you can work on them."

Note to the world: Introversion is not a weakness; it's a character trait. Emily wasn't apologizing for her priorities but trying to explain them.

The dictionary defines extroversion as "the act, state, or habit of being predominantly concerned with and obtaining gratification from what is outside the self." In other words, according to Wikipedia, extroverts "tend to enjoy human interactions and to be enthusiastic, talkative, assertive, and gregarious. They take pleasure in activities that involve large social gatherings, such as parties, community activities, public demonstrations, and business or political groups."

On the other hand, introversion is "the state of or tendency toward being wholly or predominantly concerned with and interested in one's own mental life." Wikipedia says that introverts "are people whose energy tends to expand through reflection and dwindle during interaction. Introverts . . . often take pleasure in solitary activities such as reading, writing, drawing, tinkering, playing video games, watching movies and plays, and using computers, along with some more reserved outdoor activities such as fishing. . . . The archetypal artist, writer, sculptor, engineer, composer, and inventor are all generally highly introverted."

Is there room for extro- and introverts in a Church that is supposed to be unified?

Sure, as long as "unity" does not mean "conformity."

I appreciate the example given by my co-worker Jim Summerhays in a Meridian Magazine article a while back:

I once noticed something strange as the Brethren spoke in general conference. I was curious to see that President Thomas S. Monson identified with the gospel in terms of his interactions with others—the widows of his ward and the other downtrodden sojourners of life. He interweaved into his sermons highly personal stories of his youth, the human dramas of others, and his personal ministry. Others like Elder Bruce R. McConkie identified with the gospel in striking contrast. Elder McConkie taught in cosmic and sweeping doctrinal terms. He rarely told stories and seemed to have a vendetta against using time at the pulpit to tell personal anecdotes. I puzzled at why such wide variations in personality and speaking styles existed among leaders of the Church. And even more to my amazement, and here is the material point, I noticed that they weren’t even trying to be alike.

One of my favorite quotes on the topic of individuality within the Church comes from Patricia Holland, wife of the Apostle Jeffrey R. Holland:

I have learned through several fatiguing failures that you can’t have joy in being bubbly if you are not a bubbly person. . . . Somewhere, somehow, the Lord "blipped the message onto my screen" that my personality was created to fit precisely the mission and talents he gave me. . . . Miraculously, I have found that I have untold abundant sources of energy to be myself. But the moment I indulge in imitation of my neighbor, I feel fractured and fatigued and find myself forever swimming upstream. When we frustrate God’s plan for us, we deprive this world and God’s kingdom of our unique contributions. God never gave us any task beyond our ability to accomplish it. We just have to be willing to do it our own way. We will always have enough resources for being who we are and what we can become.

For more reading on this topic, check out "An Introvert Goes to Church", published by Focus on the Family's webzine Boundless. The author suggests evidence that Jesus Himself had introverted tendencies.

Maybe I'm succeeding at following His example after all.

Tuesday's Blessings

1. Waking up in time to walk around the neighborhood when the stars were still bright.
2. Going back to bed when the sun was coming up.
3. Sleeping until 11. (11! What the?)
4. Lucky Charms for brunch.
5. Insightful scripture study despite my mad rush to get to work before the day was over.
6. Working with cool peeps at the university who don't judge me for sleeping till 11. Not that I told them why I was late.
7. No rush-hour traffic or construction traffic jams of any kind. Today's biggest miracle.
8. Delicious Greek gyro wraps for din din. You must ask me for the recipe.
9. Good conversation with Ma.
10. Finally getting my office supplies organized while watching BIGGEST LOSER season premier.
11. Mr. R coming home in one piece after church basketball.
12. Lucky Charms for bedtime snack.

I feel lucky indeed.

The Post in which I Joke (Sort of) About an Angelic Visitation

In January, Mr. R and I adopted a kitten.

"He's my favorite," the shelter employee said. "I'm so glad you chose him."

"Why is he your favorite?" I asked.

"Because he's the only one who's learned how to escape."

Nacho the cat didn't spend a lot of time trying to escape from our house, but he spent a fair amount of time getting trapped. It took us a few instances of discovering him locked in our bedroom, kitty havoc littering the carpet, before we realized we needed to prop the door open with The Chicago Manual of Style, 14th Ed., or close it completely. Nacho liked batting at the door until it closed, never learning that when he played that game, he got stuck.

About a month ago we went on a river rafting trip. On the second night of our trip, I remembered: we hadn't propped the door open. I got a bad feeling. I *knew* our poor cat was stuck without litter, food, or water. I could almost sense his frustration and hear his plaintive meows. We called the neighbors for help, but no one answered the phone.

Like I should have done in the first place, I prayed. I asked that God would make Nacho comfortable or send an angel to let him out---the kind of assignment I'm sure angels roll their eyes over. I finished my prayer, felt peace, and stopped worrying for the most part.

When Mr. R and I returned home, Nacho loudly met us at the door, free and totally fine. Then I walked down the hall and smelled something bad. The master bedroom door was shut tight, and inside, I found evidence of a trapped and unhappy cat. At least he used the bathroom rug instead of our bed. Maybe he even tried to use toilet paper, since a long pile of it lay shredded on the floor.

Had an angel really been in my house? Beamed Nacho through a closed door so he could drink some water and eat some food and use his box? I know a more logical culprit was probably a strong puff of air from the a/c vents, popping the door open long enough for Nacho to escape and sucking it closed again.

Either way, my house felt a little holier in all its stinky glory. I knew the Lord had told me my cat needed help. Then He'd told me that He'd sent help. He let me know He'd answered a prayer for a cat, no matter how silly. He let me know this just before Nacho disappeared.

Now every time I step on another jingle-ball toy or flannel-eared mouse or chewed up pen, I worry. What if Nacho is bored without his toys? What if he's cold without a lap to sleep on? What if he's hungry? (We leave food on the porch, but I think raccoons are eating it.) Worse, what if Nacho is owl food or tire-tread coating or lost and lonely and sad? I know these are not pressing questions for cat haters or people who've lost much more than a shelter pet who probably went bezerk and decided to return to his feral roots. But still. I feel sad to not have an acrobatic, wide-eyed, purring, orange-striped pal in the house. (I admit I do not feel sad to have a flat-eared, brushy-tailed, biting machine *out* of the house. But we take the good with the bad, don't we.)

I wonder if God let the cat out of my bedroom so I'd remember that He's heard our prayers before---so I'd know He's heard them now, too, even if the answer this time is that we aren't likely to see Nacho again.

I feel sad. That cat was super funny. He was my alarm clock. He was my nemesis. He was my heating pad. And he was Mr. R's buddy.

But I feel happy because God affirmed His awareness of our silly cat at the exact right time so I would be comforted. God has opened doors for Nacho before. Maybe he let the furry beast into your house. If so, do you want me to come take him off your hands? You might be tired of all the biting and scratching by now.

Freedom from Purposelessness

I haven't read any of Jonathan Franzen's novels yet, but I love what he had to say when he was on the cover of Time recently. The journalist who interviewed him pointed out that "for Franzen's characters, too much freedom is an empty, dangerously entropic thing. . . . At her lowest ebb, Patty reflects that she 'had all day every day to figure out some decent and satisfying way to live, and yet all she ever seemed to get for all her choices and all her freedom was more miserable.' And no one is freer than a person with no moral beliefs."

Then Franzen says: "One of the ways of surrendering freedom is to actually have convictions. And a way of further surrendering freedom is to spend quite a bit of time acting on those convictions."

To me, this describes living as a faithful Mormon.

Think of the happiest people you know. What is their purpose in life? I think this is a question happy people can answer readily. People who have a lot of freedom to do and be whatever they want but don't want to have to commit to anything seem to be lost, not happy.

Sometimes people wonder why I believe that God actually wants me to do so much---they claim that Mormons' busy-ness indicates we are not relying upon God's grace sufficiently. And if we approach our faith as a check-off sheet of things God expects us to do on our own power or He'll be mad at us, yes, I believe legalism can become a huge problem in any faith. But the answer, for me, is not to throw out requirements in order to feel more grace. For me, I am never more aware of God's grace than when I am trying to do something good that I already know I cannot do on my own.

When people claim I am not free because I'm invited (some would say "expected") to spend so much time making the church function through various volunteer opportunities, or because I'm invited to spend so much time reading, listening to, and discerning how to personally apply the counsel of Church leaders, both at the local level and at the top of a hierarchy, I would give them Franzen's response regarding how I feel about all of these time commitments and convictions:

"I came to realize that because my purpose on earth seems to be to write novels, I am actually freer when I'm chained to a project: freer from guilt, anxiety, boredom, anger, purposelessness."

Because my purpose on earth seems to be to write novels, be happy, love God, love family, love friends, and find a way to feel I am making a difference, I am freer when I'm "chained" to a God who makes it possible for me to do these things better than if decided I was the ultimate authority. I am freer when I abide by the commandments I've found to be valuable through life experience than when I throw out all parameters in search of freedom.

The journalist interviewing Franzen notes, "There is something beyond freedom that people need: work, love, belief in something, commitment to something. Freedom is not enough. It's necessary but not sufficient. It's what you do with freedom---what you give it up for---that matters."

Welcome to the new blog

I made this blog so I can finally take some wise advice from President Henry B. Eyring:

"I wrote down a few lines every day for years. . . . Before I would write, I would ponder this question: 'Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?' As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done. . . . My point is to urge you to find ways to recognize and remember God’s kindness."

I hope this blog will be a place where I can remember what God has done for me and share the beautiful, positive memories that are made when I live my life with conviction.

Comments are turned off for now because I'm sort of approaching this as a journal that may or may not also be interesting to friends and family. If I find that people are tuning in, I may change the comments settings later. In the meantime, please feel free to send me an e-mail if you'd like. Thanks for stopping by.