Time That's Left

I recently noticed on my little count-down on my blog that I only  have 300-ish hours left until I leave on my mission! I mean, I still have 311 whole hours left until I finally get to leave! But this has made me think about what I do with every hour. An hour wasted on Pinterest and Facebook and the New York Times is gone and can't be retrieved. (Sometimes, the way I talk and the way other people talk, you'd think I was dying in 300 hours..but really? I think the next 18 months will be more full of living than anything.)

So what will I do with those 300 hours? Well, for about 97 of them I'll be sleeping, if I get 7.5 hours a night. That leaves me with 203 waking hours to finish my classes, take finals, do some more shopping, say goodbye to everyone, speak in church, pack everything I want for the next year and half (!!), watch general conference, spend time with my family, and become mentally prepared to serve the Lord with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. Whew. So much to do, so little time.

 

And yet, I've had 4.5 months since I received my call. I have no excuses. This whole scenario reminds me of the verse in Alma that says, "This life is the time for men to prepare to meet God." Who knows if you only have 300 hours to prepare meet a situation much more serious than a mission? Not to be morbid, but still.

So what will you do with the time that's left? Fritter it away? With less than two weeks before I go, the song Time from Jericho Road has been running through my head. One verse says:

Time is a movin,

Are you using

To be losing

The precious gift of time

It went so fast

But you thought it would last

And I wonder when you'll see that

Your time's run out

He is your best friend

So remember when

Your life seemed like a whirlwind

He was waiting

Forever by your side

It goes so fast You think it's gonna last

But I wonder when you'll see

That the time is now

Your time or are you choosin'

On the Shores of Galilee

A year ago I was spending 10 days at the Sea of Galilee.

 Where Christ calmed the winds and waves to become as smooth as glass.  Where He walked on water.

 Where, perhaps on this hill, He cast devils into pigs who went running into the sea.

Where, nearby in the Jordan River, Jesus was the perfect example for all of us and was baptized.

Where, on this hill side, He gave the Sermon on the Mount. And a year ago I read that incredible Sermon at the place it was given. I'll never forget it.

Where, on these very shores, He called to Simon, Peter, and Andrew and said, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." And they straightaway left their nets and followed him. And their life was never the same.

Little did I realize that a year from then I would be leaving my fishing behind to fish for men and invite them to follow Christ.



And little did I know that I would watch three of my roommates open their calls to become fishers of men, and watch over a dozen of my Jerusalem girl friends and three of my freshmen roommates decide to leave their nets, too.

Last Friday my dear roommate Jamie opened her call. She's leaving for the Russia Moscow West mission in July. I'm so happy for her!

Here's how we feel about it. Happy, because what could be more happy than the opportunity to share the happiness that the gospel brings us?

More reminiscing? This post, and this one bring back the good Galilee days.

Answers for the Soul

The other night I volunteered at the Missionary Training Center. I was an investigator for two Spanish-speaking sister missionaries to teach. After expressing excitement for me about my upcoming mission, I asked if they had any advice. They proceeded to tell me about an experience they had when they were told to think of a question they had, then take 20 minutes to read and pray about it and get an answer. They both had doubted they would be able to get an answer in 20 minutes, but they both had touching experiences they shared with me.

They told me to use the Book of Mormon to find answers to my own questions, to read it with a question or a person in mind.  I have done that since, and answers truly do abound in the Book of Mormon.

The Book of Mormon answers questions of the soul. Who hasn't wondered,

"Is there a God?"

"Is there a purpose to life?"

"Where did I come from?"

"What will happen after this life?"

The Book of Mormon answers those questions! It was written for our day! It was written for YOU!

It not only answers the big questions that I just mentioned, but it also answers questions that are unique to you, the little questions of your heart.

Today I finished reading the Book of Mormon again. I thought about the many hours I have spent over my life reading this same book and the moments I've had with it. When I was eight years old I started reading one verse every night, and I have read it every night since (I've graduated to longer amounts of reading, thank goodness). I remember many precious times with my scriptures when my heart was so full. Even if you don't understand what you're reading all of the time, the Spirit of the Book of Mormon will bring you closer to God than any other book could.

If you have not read the Book of Mormon, what have you got to lose? It has blessed the lives of millions of people and can bless your life, too. I know that it is the word of God. I know that it testifies of Jesus Christ.  The best part is that you don't have to take my word for it, you can read it and then ask God yourself if it is true.

P.S. Yesterday I bought a Book of Mormon and hymn book in Guarani, the indigenous language of Paraguay.  Most books are not translated into Guarani, an obscure language that only a few million people in Paraguay speak. But the Book of Mormon? It's worth whatever it takes to bring it to every corner of the earth.

When Classes Clean my Windows

I hear the wooden door of 231 of the Richards Building close behind me as I leave yet another day of class. But was it just another day of class? Or did I let it change me a little bit, making it much more than "just another day," as if to say it was inconsequential? Because of the things I just heard, learned and felt in that class, am I going to do anything differently? Am I going to treat someone better or be better able to help? To everyone else the world seems the same now as it was two hours ago, but to me the world is so different than it was before I walked into that classroom.

Walking home I look around at all the other people walking, driving, talking, exercising, and rushing around me. I just wish that everyone on campus could go to the classes I go to and feel their paradigms shift by the moment, so that they, too, would be looking at the world in a whole new way.

I will never forget the feeling of walking around campus after a class and feeling like a whole new world has been revealed, wondering how I possibly lived without understanding what was recently taught to me or brought to my attention.  The feeling of leaving my international health class last fall and walking home at sunset, looking over a gleaming Utah lake and the beautiful BYU campus, with any pre-misconceptions about poverty blown out of my mind.

The feeling of walking out of my Old Testament class at the Jerusalem center and being re-converted, re-determined to always trust in God. The feeling of leaving my substance abuse class and knowing I could never look at an addict or alcoholic and think, "What a loser to keep on using drugs and not just quit. He's a hopeless case and will probably never succeed." Leaving my consumer health class and knowing I could never look at an overweight person and judge them.

Knowledge on these subjects has replaced any old judgements with complete compassion and empathy, and understanding. When you actually understand something, there is so much less room for judgement.

Letting your perspective be changed in class is like cleaning the windows you look through. Watch this:

 

Raise the World

You know those charity commercials that show children looking straight into the camera from their dirty, poor conditions? The images that make your heart wrench but you don't know what you can do about it? The phone number flashes on the screen asking you to make a donation but you have no idea if it will actually make a difference.

It's one thing to look at images on your flat-screen TV from the comfort of your couch in your heated home. It's another thing to photograph those images yourself, to be standing there in your dusty Teva sandals and long skirt, not wanting to take out your camera but also dying to so that you don't forget what's before your eyes.

It's different to become friends with the little boys who play soccer in the neighborhood field every day in their bare feet, to shoot marbles into dirt holes with them and to learn their names and let them laugh at you as you try out your Swahili--and then to one day see those boys in their home environment, to peek over the fence and see them in the only clothes you'll ever see them in, with dirt in their mouths and their little baby sister sitting in the yard with tears seemingly permanently running down her brown cheeks, with no adult nearby to feed and protect her. At times like that you only wish that picking up the phone and giving a credit card number is all it took to make everything right.

(These ain't no photos from google images!)
This Friday is an event called the Hunger Banquet at BYU and this is my plug for it. The theme this year is children.  Not only do the proceeds of the event go towards organizations we feel are influential, but every person who attends will have greater perspective and awareness of what children go through today. Being aware of a problem is always the first step to solving it.

Some problems are more urgent in solving than others:

"We are guilty of many errors and many faults, but our worst crime is abandoning the children, neglecting the foundation of life. Many of the things we need can wait. The child cannot. Right now is the time his bones are being formed, his blood is being made and his senses are being developed.  To him we cannot answer ‘Tomorrow’. His name is ‘Today’."

Gabriela Mistral, 1948

When you raise children right, you raise the world.

Ski Skool

I'm pretty sure I learn some of the most important lessons during the weekends when I don't spend a minute in a classroom.

My extremely smart roommate Jamie is in the accounting program at BYU. Since it is the #2 accounting program in the nation, PWC (one of the major accounting firms) does some hard-core recruiting here. For instance, they sponsored a skiing day this past Saturday for all the accounting students and they could bring a guest. I got to be Jamie's guest and ski at Sundance all day and get donuts and free lunch for just $10 (ok, so there's no such thing as a free lunch).

My FHE brothers Kevin and Cameron came too and I was on the ski lift with them at one point. I had been getting off at the first stop over and over, because I'm not a very experienced skier and the easiest hill was enough excitement for me. But when I was riding the lift with Kev and Cam, they put the bar down in front of us and wouldn't let me get off on the first stop, thus forcing me to ride to the top of the lift and be on a blue square level-run which was, to say the least, terrifying to me. I don't know why they had such confidence in me that I could ski at that level, but those pro-skiers slowed down and made sure I made it down safely.

It was on that run down that I got a taste of how skiing is supposed to be. I embraced the speed instead of constantly trying to slow down or come to stop. The beautiful views, the cold wind in your face, the friction-less velocity of skiing....it was a whole new world that I never would have discovered had I stayed on the bunny hill (which I certainly would have done if not for the challenge of my FHE brothers). I went down that blue square hill several more times voluntarily and loved it (yes, it's possible to love something you're terrible at, thank goodness!) despite the epic wipe-outs.

I didn't think I would ever be able to ski down a hill any steeper than the easiest one. This experience solidified in me one of my all-time favorite quotes by Eleanor Roosevelt,

"You must do that which you think you cannot."

Courageous

 I watched this incredible movie Saturday night and suggest that you find it this week and WATCH IT. Red boxes have it.  It will make you laugh, cry, but mostly leave you wanting to be better.

If you can't tell from the trailer, it's about four policemen who resolve to be better fathers. Never has a movie been more needed in a society than today.  In Africa I definitely saw that if fathers were more involved in providing for their families, it would solve so many of the country's ills. Many men would be gone drinking all day (banana beer for everyone!) and the women would have to take care of the children, cook, and try to earn money (that would be spent on more beer).

But developed countries like the good US of A is certainly not immune. In fact, 1 in 3 children in the US live in homes without fathers.  Almost 40% of children born in the US are born out of wedlock, which nearly always been none or little involvement with the father.

In reading a series of articles titled War on Boys about how boys have been falling behind girls in education, emotional health, and jobs; it shows that research has shown that:

• Infants whose dads live at home were as much as 6 months ahead in social and personal development.
• Time with dad, more than anything else, predicts empathy in adulthood. 
• Dad's involvement reduces the likelihood that a child will need ADHD medication or emotional or behavioral therapy.
• Dad's presence increases school performance, his likelihood increases likelihood of dropping out.
• Most gang members come from homes without dads.
• No dad around increases likelihood of criminal activity and dad is the single-biggest factor in preventing drug abuse. 

Reading all of this made me thankful, once again, that I have the best dad ever. The hikes, the bike rides after dinner, the chats after scripture study, the movies, the campouts, the canoe trips, the cabin trips, the taking a "short-cut" with his GPS and being pretty sure it was a long-cut. He would sleep on the trampoline with us even though he hardly slept a wink out there. He would talk in a British accent for hours after watching Pride and Prejudice with us. He built me a milk parlor to milk my goats in, for pete's sake. Who knows where I would be without him.