Help Thou Mine Unbelief

One of my favorite passages in the Bible comes from Mark 9:

23 Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.
24 And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.

It expresses how I feel so often in my life. I KNOW that the gospel of Jesus Christ is real, and I KNOW that Heavenly Father hears my prayers. I KNOW that the atonement is big enough for all things, even my own plight. Still, I have days where I'm weak, and my faith is tried. On these days, I want to cry, and I plead that the Lord will allow blessings into my life despite my unbelief.

Now, more than I have in a very long time, my hope is that God sees the good in me, and will grant unto me the righteous desires of my heart, despite my imperfections.

"Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief..."

A Beautiful Weekend

This weekend has been so full for me. So much has gone on, I can barely begin to describe it.

This weekend was all about Meaghan for me. I learned - and FELT! - so much over the last few days. Friday was a normal crazy work day. On top of that, though, I was preparing a huge poster and her dance book for Meaghan's Memorial. It was quite a project that included finding the right pictures, sizing them appropriately, cutting them into the right shapes, matching the right colors, stenciling letters, pasting pieces together, and a few other creative skills. The project took me time at work, plus hours afterwards. That night, I didn't go to bed until 6:30 the next morning.

I got up an hour and a half later to get to Meaghan's memorial. It was one of the most beautiful memorial services I've ever attended. The chapel was set on a small island, overlooking the sound. It was a beautiful day, few clouds, warm sun, and a light breeze. Everyone wore beautiful colors to the service, in honor of Meaghan's wish for it to be a celebratory event; and everywhere you looked, you saw butterflies - a symbol of new life that Meaghan loved and admired. Still, we all shed tears as family and friends shared cherished memories of Meaghan's inspiring life, and her motivating and wise words. Even I shed a few tears. It was so nice to be able to feel like that again, as strange as it may sound. I can't remember the last time I cried; it's been years.

That evening, I had dreams - swirls of detached, nonsensical memories that I will never recall. The only feelings I can remember are those of a calm, nostalgic, and underlyingly happy tone. After 4 hours on Saturday night, I woke up and quickly dressed for the 14 hour work day I had ahead of me. When I got into the car, the first thing I noticed was the program from Meaghan's memorial service on the passenger seat. Immediately I was hit with the realization that she was not going to be joining us this time for our Showcase, and the reality of her passing finally started to dawn on my slow brain. My eyes began to mist, and I prepared myself mentally and spiritually as I drove, asking God to help me make it through the long day ahead. The one thing that came to me was the words of Meaghan's mother the day she came and delivered us the news about Meaghan's passing: "Meaghan may not be there physically, but she will be at Showcase spiritually. Look for her, she will show herself there. She's already shown us she's still here."

At the Showcase, there was so much to do, so many people to take care of, so much to see! It wasn't until around noon that I finally saw it - the butterfly gown! As soon as I saw it, I knew! Meaghan WAS there, and I immediately felt uplifted! I almost heard a voice in my head say, "See? I told you so!" I touched the beautiful insects that garnished the elegant dress, and admired it with more fervor than a boy should. I was not ashamed, though; this was what I was looking forward to see - the sign that Meaghan was still alive somewhere.

I keep thinking back to the service, and pondering some very wise words that Meaghan shared with her best friend, and her best friend shared with us: whenever her friend would cry due to Meaghan's health, Meaghan would say,"Please don't cry. I don't want you to be sad. I don't want to be sad; I want to be happy. I want to smile!" And she would! Meaghan ALWAYS smiled! She was always so positive and upbeat. She never let you know that she was in physical pain when she was. She never felt sorry for herself, or let others feel sorry for her. She was a fighter! When the doctors told her she had less than a year to live, Meaghan didn't sit and sulk; she pushed passed their words, and proved them wrong by almost 15 years! She always had time to make someone else's day better, and she always did her best to make sure everyone else was happy. She taught us the importance of every single day, and every present moment. She didn't dwell on the past, and she never tried to rush into the future. She was grateful for today!

Meaghan is the type of person that I want to be! She proved that it didn't matter what type of trials you're asked to endure; that the thing that counted was the way you lived your life! She didn't make excuses, she didn't solicit special treatment, she didn't let herself get defeated. I admire her so much, and a part of me wishes she were still here so I could continue to have her positive influence on my life here with me today. However, I am grateful for the knowledge of a divine plan that keeps us eternally entwined, and look forward to the day I'll be able to be in her company again.

If you're reading this Meaghan, I want you to know that I love you so much, and am eternally grateful for the blessing that it is to have had you in my life these last couple of years!

Happiness is a Choice

I knew a kid who was called to serve a mission in a foreign land, and had to learn to speak the language. Prior to this appointment, he had minimal exposure to the culture or language of these people he had been called to serve. His patriarchal blessing, however, promised that he'd accomplish the feat of mastery over foreign languages through his faith and diligence.

After a few months out on his mission, however, his parents informed me that he was struggling terribly to learn the language, and communicate with the people he met. Growing up around traditions from another culture (Samoan), and being familiar with the culture and language he was new to, I understood the difficulties that this kid was facing. His parents and I and my best friend tossed around ideas on how we could help him out (my best friend is fluent in the aforementioned language and culture), and we finally decided that there was little we could do but pray on his behalf, for the mental and emotional strength he needed to overcome his struggles with the language barriers.

I committed to praying for him on several occasions over the next year. Whenever I spoke with this kid's parents, they would inform me of the progress he was making, and they looked more and more relieved and happy for the success their son was finding in this difficult trial.

After he returned, I spoke to him about his mission, about his experience with the people and the culture. He lightly spoke about it, and made no deal about his mission, either good or bad. Then, later, I heard him speak sarcastically about the language and returning to that place, and was really saddened by his candor. Didn't this guy realize that there were people out there that were praying for him while he was on his mission? That we asked Heavenly Father to help HIM specifically with his trial? That the very thing he was taking so lightly, others had taken seriously enough to pray to God about?

I continued in this vain for about a week until my mind was taken back to an experience I had years ago. I remember being 20 years old, and very unhappy with the way my life was going. I had envisioned my perfect life as a child: doing a semester of BYU after high school before leaving on a mission right at 19; coming home at 21; getting married by 22; finishing college at 24; being discovered by 25; selling a million records by 26; having 6 children (including a set of twins) by 30; and yada yada, right?! Instead, I was 20, with a year of BYU-I under my belt, no plans to return; no mission call; disfellowshipped from the church; and worst of all, the gradual realization that I was gay, and probably never going to marry or have children! I was very depressed.

During this time, I was visiting my then bishop every week. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. He didn't always tell me what I wanted to hear, but he always told me what I needed to hear, and didn't do it until after he listened to what I had to say. He gave me the most sound advice I'd ever received: "Happiness is a CHOICE." He taught me that happy people don't end up that way by accident. They make the conscious decision to be happy, and that I could be like that if I simply chose to be." I remember trying, a little in vain in the beginning. But one weekend, I did find a way to be happy, and I remember things going well for me. A good friend asked me specifically about that weekend later that month, after not seeing or visiting with me for quite a while. After I declared to him my positive experience, he gave me a big hug and said, "Good, because that's the day where I felt impressed to pray for you."

Years later, I'm reminded of the choice that I have: the choice to feel the way that I want to feel. No matter what is going on in my life, I can either moan and groan, and complain about my circumstances, or I can choose to bear my burden with hope and faith, with the surety that pain is temporary, and that I will make it through whatever is happening. I'm sure that when Christ suffered for me in the Garden, that he did not do it begrudgingly. He willingly atoned for my sins, out of love and out of faith in me. Jesus suffered so much more than I ever will have to, so that I don't have to. So why should I choose to? I am going to follow his example, and bear my burden with a positive spirit, with the reassurance that I have a Savior who knows exactly what I'm feeling, and knows how to succor me. Even if I must bear a difficult trial like SSA, or being single, for the rest of this short mortal life, I will die in the real hope that Heavenly Father has prepared a way for me to experience eternal and everlasting happiness with Him, which gift is more precious and priceless to me than any other temporary things this world has offered me for pleasure. I have made my decision, and I am happier now than I was when I was that confused 20 year old kid.

I am never going to complain about having SSA again, or any other seemingly impossible trial I will face. I will choose to be happy in the knowledge that God would never give me more than I can handle, especially with Him there with me. Besides, I never know who is praying for me!

Criminal

So you'll never believe what happened to me:

I'm going to make a long story short(er)~

I was speeding down a long strip on the way home last night, and I got caught. Not a big deal, right? I'm calm, very in-control of the matter... until the officer comes back to my car and informs me that I'm driving with a suspended licence! He asks me to step out of my vehicle, face the car, and place my hands behind my back. He places me under arrest, and escorts me to the back of his vehicle!

Normally, one would be freaking out, right? Especially someone like me, who totally DISLIKES cops. I know a couple in my own life that are the exception, but generally speaking, I think they suck. However, this officer was so nice, and so caring. When he placed me under arrest, he did so almost apologetically. He gingerly put the cuffs around my wrists in a manner that allowed for the most comfort while still serving their purpose. He read me my rights and asked me the questions he needed to, without prying into my personal life, or lecturing me. He was kind, quick, and helpful. He made sure that I got into and out of his patrol vehicle without hitting my head. He told me everything he was going to do before he did it, and respected me as a human being; he didn't treat me like a criminal at all!

When he was through issuing me my ticket, and explaining to me what I needed to do to take care of this matter, he offered to give me a ride home if I was unable to get someone to come get me. I let him drive me home, and ,again, he did so without lecturing me. He made it a point to gather my things for me before he or I forgot them in the car, and he asked me to relax, and made sure I felt okay. When I thanked him for making it such a painless experience, he told me: "Well, it's my job to do that. I'm not here to harass ya. I'm here to help you." Then he apologized that I had to go through that, and after I told him not to worry about it, because it was my own fault, he said, "Well it's not very often that people take responsiblity for their actions. Thank you, and you try to enjoy the rest of your night." Then he left.

I looked at the ticket he issued, to find his name. Would you know that he had the same initial as me, and the same last name?!

I thank God that I was pulled over by this officer, and not another who would have treated me poorly. Having already had one bad experience with a state patrol, I was very grateful to have that experience with a law-enforcement officer who epitomized the position and authority he held. And I'm grateful that I was able to get home, get my car back not 30 minutes later, and have things with my car taken care of so easily. I felt so blessed when I came home, and realized how much simpler a trial that was for me than it should have been, or might have been. I was arrested, you know?!

And I live to tell!

Today proved to be a very humbling one. I should have known things wouldn't turn out so well when I refuted the prompting to pray this morning. While driving to work, one of my tires started stripping away badly. The car shook violently, and I was able to pull off to the side safely, thanks to some divine help. I got out of the car to look at the damage, and this is what I saw... (Ugly, so bad)

I was so grateful that things weren't any worse. The Lord preserved me once again, despite my insolence. Man am I stupid sometimes, haha. My brother, whom I was speaking to on the phone at the time of the incident, notified his girlfriend and my parents, and rallied their aid immediately. Karen arrived at the scene not 5 minutes later, and my parents were only 3 minutes behind her. Karen dropped me off at work, while my parents went and purchased a new tire, and replaced my old one. They dropped my car off at my place of work way before my lunch time so I could use it, and even put some more gas in the tank. Vivic called again later to check on the progress of my car, and make sure I was okay.

I realized again today how truly blessed I am, and how mindful the Lord is of me. I felt terrible for choosing not to pray this morning, after receiving the small but distinct prompting to do it. I've repented since, and thanked the Lord for being with me today, and allowing me the opportunity to learn from my mistakes, and to grow and mature spiritually. I am so grateful for my family, for the eternal bond we share, and how quick they are to respond to my needs. I love them so much, and thank the Lord that I am so blessed to have them in my life.