I Was Saved For This

Yesterday a group of young ladies and I were conversing on how we can learn to love God more than the world.  We acknowledged the many distractions that can separate us from our Father when not placed in the right order on our priority lists, such as school work, social lives, exercise, media, and even sleep.  One distraction I would like to expand upon is vanity.

Some days we just like to look nice; that cute outfit and good hair day help us feel confident and content, but what happens when we place the world's opinion above God's?  What happens when we wake up early in the morning to do our hair, make up, and clothes, but neglect to pray and study the word of God?  What happens when we spend the majority of our money on the latest trends and fads instead of investing in our future and serving others?  What happens when we cave in to peer pressure and turn our backs on righteous paths?

As we spoke of this I asked myself, "Would I rather be known for my trendy style and modern ways, or remembered for my kind heart and serving hands?"  It really comes down to where you want your legacy to reside.  What kind of person you want to be remembered as, and even if you want to be remembered, can influence your present actions.  I don't know about you, but I sure would like to make the world a better place for at least a few people, even if that means living my life off the beaten path of modern thinking and possessions.

Over one hundred and fifty years ago, Latter-day Saint pioneers trekked west across the United States to seek refuge from persecution.  From their records we know of the extreme physical difficulties they went through, walking hundreds of miles with wagons and handcarts, many falling ill and passing along the way.  Sometimes when I ponder on their experiences, I think to myself: give me a handcart, as I would gladly pull for miles through physical exhaustion and harsh conditions instead of face a world dead set on reducing me to a mental and emotional mess of confusion and contradiction.  I'm certainly not saying that what they went through was not harder than what we today are going through, but I am saying that I feel I am more accustomed and willing to endure physical tribulation than that of the spiritual attacks we see so much of today.  Attacks on family structure, marriage duration, morality, and so much more.

Sometimes I wish for a wagon, but then I remember.

I remember that I am part of a royal generation.  I remember that God has saved me, and others of this day and age, for a special purpose on this Earth at this time.  I remember that if God has put me here in this period of spiritual war, then He knows I am strong enough to fight against it, and win.  I remember that "I know I'm somebody, because God don't make no junk."  I remember that He is all knowing, and all loving, and all so ready to help me fight my battles.  I remember that I can walk off the beaten path and find true peace and genuine happiness.  I know I can make it.  I was made for this; I was saved for this.

So grab your handcart, and don't forget to pack your prayers, because we're going on an adventure.

Mountains and Moun'ns

The weekend before this past I had the opportunity to travel down to Zion National Park for some fun in the sun.  Our multiple hour drive was filled with singing, homework, singing, me falling asleep and probably drooling, and I think there was some more singing.  At last we reached Zion, and when we started up the Angel's Landing trail, I wondered at what I had gotten myself into.

For those who do not know, Angel's Landing is a rock structure reaching 1500 feet above the canyon floor.  The path to the top is steep and narrow, at one point becoming only two feet across.  Even with a paved path in the beginning, the angle led my calves to dream of the flatland Florida I call home, and my lungs complained about the "mountain air".  However, once we made it past the switchbacks I felt exhilarated.  My senses explored the world around me, instead of the pain inside me.  How fantastic it was to be so high up with no walls to block my view and no ceilings to contain my sense of accomplishment as my bare feet hopped from rock to stone, as sure as if they were at sea level back at home.  I stopped worrying about how hard it was, and rejoiced in the accomplishing steps I kept taking.

At this time, I also took notice of the differences between care, caution, and paranoia.  I took care along the whole hike, being aware of my surroundings and spatial orientation; I was especially cautious around the more treacherous parts, placing my footfalls with exactness as the path increased in height and steepness; but I never took to being paranoid for my life or others'.

Paranoia prevents adventure.  Whether it be a fear of heights, germs, or even death itself, fear drops a wall down between us and the experiences life and the world have to offer us.  Most of my life I've been fearful of what others think of me, at one point taking that fear so far that I lowered the quality of my life to try to fit into what society believed to be aesthetically "normal".  One of the darker journeys of my life was getting through and letting go of that fear.  It was hard and rocky and sometimes I backtracked to the beginning because it was so stinkin' hard.  But just as the trail up to Angel's Landing was rough and strenuous, the view was worth it, and the different life I lead now is worth every burdensome day that demanded my constant hike upwards.  Trying to live my life as just being me is one of the coolest and most exciting things I've ever done, even cooler than Angel's Landing.  Some days are easier than others, but I am grateful for the contrasts because you can't have mountains without valleys, and mountains don't seem so daunting anymore. 

We all know how much I'm learning to love that mountain air.