FDA approved

Sometimes life is hard. Sometimes things happen unexpectedly. Sometimes finals are in a week and a half and you can't remember anything from the beginning of the semester.

But that's only sometimes. 

The reality of it is that there are always wonderful and hilarious friends/coworkers/bosses.

There is always a supportive, loving, understanding and funny family.

The sun is always shining, especially during this wonderful time of year.

I am always learning new things. Whether it be from class, experience, or wisdom of others.

My body is always hurting, in a satisfying way, because I am training for awesome events (1) (2) (3). 

There are always emails and letters coming to me from around the world.

I always have the opportunity to make a little money at a good job.

There are always chance run ins on campus.

There are also always planned run ins on campus. 

General Conference is always in April.

Sometimes you have to learn things and sometimes learning hurts your brain. But the good news is that there is always Ibuprofen in the form tender mercies. 

Now, that's a drug I approve of. 

Secret

I have always craved my own secret spot. A place where I can be alone and think. An area that is mine, where I can get to know myself again. When I was younger it was the curtains pulled shut around my bed, the back of  the cubby in my room. Then it was in the branches of the tree in my backyard where I would climb and sit and swing for hours, letting my imagination run wild as I envisioned myself as an Indian running through the forest or climbing a cliff or taming the wild horses.

I had a secret spot in the forest surrounding the cabin in Montana. I would walk through the bushes and grass, balancing on fallen trees while I pretended I was the fourth friend in the Harry Potter trio. Sometimes all it took was a blanket draped across a table with a bean bag underneath to have my own lair where I could plot how to overthrow the evil wizard or figure out the code on the "Lights Out" game in order to free my fellow spy from an eternal imprisonment.

Then I grew up.

Suddenly being alone was a sign of social incompetence. If I wasn't physically with my friends I needed to be connected to them through technology. I couldn't be alone because if I was alone that meant I had failed. It meant I was undesirable and...alone.

My secret spots disappeared. I was never alone. My imagination was crumpled as I swamped it with movie after movie, drama after drama, and selfishness after selfishness. I didn't think about adventures anymore. I thought about how this person had wronged me, how I could get this boy to like me, how I could get invited to this party or who I could spend my weekend with. My imagination was exhausted with trivial things and malnourished to the extent that it might have died.

This scares me.

Yesterday I went out by myself. I didn't go because I wanted to. I went because I couldn't stand to be alone in my apartment anymore. My addiction to company was manifesting itself in my forlorn and despairing attitude. So I left. I took my hiking backpack and my bike. I just started riding away. Through a series of intersections, hills, and dodging of water guns, I found myself 30 minutes away from my apartment at the base of a canyon. I stashed my bike in the bushes and started hiking, taking deer trails and scratching my legs on the still bare branches of the hibernating vegetation.

I found a new secret spot.
I met myself again.
I am ok with who I am.
I plan on being alone more often.

Aloe Vera for the Soul

Yesterday was a great day. After stake conference (which I was unexpectedly called upon to speak in) a big group of my friends all went out on the grass hill near our buildings. We sat there, chatting, snacking, and playing games for a good 5 hours. It was grand.

As the day went on, however, we realized that something was happening. Our once pasty white skin was rapidly turning pink, red, and in some cases, purple. As the night progressed I was overcome with chills, headaches, and the sensation of my flesh being on fire. (Dramatic yes, but I assure you it was uncomfortable) That's when the Aloe Vera was busted out.

As I applied this soothing balm to my battered skin, the feeling of relief was instantaneous and thorough. I sat there, considering my history with sunburns and marveling at how dumb I am. Every year I think that I somehow am stronger than the sun. Every year I burn. Every year I apply gallons of Aloe Vera. Every year it soothes my pain.

The Atonement of Jesus Christ is the same way, except it is not a once a year thing. It is constant. As I consistently fall, make wrong choices, and struggle through challenges- as I consistently think that I am stronger than I really am and consistently allow myself to be burned by the fiery darts of the adversary, Christ is consistently there to sooth my injuries. His Atonement allows Him to understand completely the pain of my physical sunburn and, more importantly, my spiritual burns. And, like Aloe Vera, He applies the balm of love, compassion, support and strength in order to sooth my injuries.

I am so grateful.

To read more on the healing power of the Atonement go here:
The Healer's Art