Milk and other Messy Miracles

Martina McBride sings a song called “For the Girls” that has a verse that goes something like this; “this is for all you girls about twenty five, in a little apartment just trying to get by. Living on your dreams and spagettios, wonderin’ where your life is gonna go.” It is one of my favorites right now cause that is definitely how I feel most of the time. I can’t even say I’m living paycheck to paycheck as it’s more like plasma donation to plasma donation, and I happen to prefer cereal and tuna helper to spagettios, I certainly have learned a whole lot more about being hungry, cold, worried, and lonely here than anywhere else. The cool part is that essential life lessons are served with all that emotional soup mess—like learning that things really do always look better after a good night’s sleep, sharing what little we have somehow makes what we’ve got last a little longer, smiling until you really feel it really does work, if you are lonely chances are really good that others around you are also, a cute coat can really enhance an outfit, and you would be surprised what you can live through with a little determination, some steady prayer, and a lot of help. Most of all though, I’ve learned that God can make miracles out of anything—and He often does.

Last quarter I ran into a bit of a conundrum. The quarter before my car died and I literally had to empty my bank account to fix it. I have been blessed with generous parents who make sure I have enough to get by on but January when I came back everything was a little delayed as it was right after Christmas and everything. This wouldn’t have been a problem except that my money and my food supply ran out at the exact same time and what little I had left over I needed for textbooks. I had one month to survive on half a loaf of bread, 1/3 a gallon of milk, two cans of soup, some left-over pasta, a few granola bars, and half a box of cereal. I ate lunch at the institute building maybe three times a week and I probably still could have been okay (as I said, you can survive on very little if you have to) but the bread went moldy—I’m not talking about little spots here and there, I’m talking it was totally riddled with sour salty mold. I may have still made it but the milk went bad next and I knew I wouldn’t have enough food to last, so I ate it anyway. I got a little gassy, but nowhere near as ill as I thought I would. I though—wow. God is blessing me to stay healthy even though I’m hungry and drinking sour milk. It was pretty cool. Still though, I was hungry and gassy too now. Luckily, the blessings kept coming. I went to a ward chili cook-off for FHE about a week after my milk went bad and one of the bishopric members gave me his leftovers and suddenly I had a whole bunch of food. The next miracle came when I was helping to clean the church that Saturday and in the fridge there was a leftover half gallon of milk! They gave it to me and I made it until February with a can of soup to spare. I also learned quite a bit and developed a whole new level of empathy for those who go hungry. I had it cushy—not even that bad but I did go to bed with my stomach grouching each night and it was hard! I also learned that God provides in ways I can’t even imagine, and that He strengthens us to handle what we think we can’t. And I hope I forever remember the miracle of the milk. I only had about a week of bad milk before God provided me milk in a way I never ever would have even thought of. I felt so loved and cared for-the tiny details of my life perfectly looked after.

There have been several other miracles—large and small, obvious and subtle, but tonight I had another major one that I will not soon forget as the timing of it was absolutely amazing. About the same time I ran out of food my driver’s side window broke. I think it was the mini motor or something but basically it wouldn’t go up or down. I decided to wait till Daddy or Uncle Scott could help me fix it so I jimmied it up and secured it with packing tape. Not beautiful but functional and as long as I keep the tape fresh I don’t think anyone will be able to break in as I tape it both on the inside and the outside. This is a real concern as one car was stolen and one broken into last Sunday from the church—not two miles from my house. Anyway, so it was a temporary fix but I figured it’d be alright. Anywho, so it was alright. Tonight I went to the temple with some big questions, wondering if I had messed everything up, if I had unintentionally ruined something important by being my normal idiotic self, if I still had hope to achieve my dreams or if I was just a self-destructive flunky destined for an eternity in my own idiocracy. You get the idea. Anyway, so it was a beautiful temple session (they always are) but I still wasn’t sure exactly that I felt the comfort I was searching for. Then I realized—I had locked my keys in the trunk. The temple is about a 40 minute drive from my house, my phone, keys, and purse were all in the trunk. So besides five dollars in cash, my recommend, and my Safeway card I was stuck with nothing. I don’t even know anyone’s number except my parents and that’s long distance plus it was 11:30pm in Texas by the time my session ended. Then I remembered—my car window is broken and I hadn’t had time to change the tape for about two weeks. I tore the outside tape off and forced the window down—the tape was old enough that I was able to bust through it without that much trouble, and I was in! Who knew all those months ago how grateful I would be that my window was broken tonight? I spent the drive back home glancing at my sagging window and laughing. God can make miracles out of messes. Maybe I am a mess. Maybe my self-destructive tendencies do create all kinds of unnecessary problems for me and others. Maybe all that is true, but God can not only fix it but can bring good out of it. All I need to do is trust Him and do all that I can do and have faith that in the end as long as I keep the Savior at the center of my life, everything will work out in ways that I cannot now imagine. God makes miracles out of milk. And messes. I’ll have to remember that.

Self Discovery

I won't even bother with the opening explaining how I should be homework because you know if I am writing here chances are great that I should be doing homework. Plus there really isn't any time that I shouldn't be doing homework so it really is just a waste of space to try and bother with the excuses and explanations.

I have learned a lot about myself recently. Good and bad, obvious and subtle, probably some truth and some fallacy. I have emerged from said lesson mostly unscathed but slightly unsatisfied. I really have the best life anyone could ever ask for. My family is absolutely bursting with greatness and while this has been true for generations, I think it has all concentrated itself into a barely containable force in the seven amazing people I am lucky enough to call my immediate family members. I have been nurtured and groomed from a young age in a controlled and tailored environment to become good and happy and successful. I grew up in the greatest state there is surrounded by amazing examples who taught me all there was to know about being a good, decent, kind person. Friends, teachers, leaders, examples, and acquaintances all helped to mold my world into something exciting and beautiful and full promise. Like a freshly plowed, weeded, and dunged plot in all its splendid stench my future has always been waiting for me to plant whatever I wanted. With such a beginning as this handed to me really without any work on my side, what excuse could I ever find to be anything but blissfully successful? Not to say that I am unhappy or failing, just that I should be so much better with amazing gift of a protected and practically perfect incubator before my release into the unknown. Luckily, I am young (in spite of the looks of disbelief my age brings to BYU freshmen) and I am ever happy. I can be better and I will be. That is the miracle of agency--we can really truly be anyone we want to be. I want to be taller--Spiritually I mean. I want to be kinder and more open minded. I want to be less selfish--to think of others first without having to remind myself to do so. I want to laugh often. I want to be thoughtful and good. Sometimes I feel like with the gospel life gives me a catalog of personality traits and promises that if they are righteous and if I am willing to do my part to attain them, anything is possible with God and I can become whoever I need to be with His help. I think that approaching the end of this my third quarter (and basically the last one of my first year) of graduate school has inspired me to reassess and remodel. Take out a wall here, put in a sunlit breakfast nook. Build a porch, add a wing, redo the plumbing, and put up curtains. The outside of the house means nothing if what's inside it isn't worth living in.

You know that feeling right before something important? The deep breath right before you step off the airplane into your new home. The split second burst of emotion and doubt you have to decide in before you close the distance for the first kiss. The hesitation before you finish your signature on the contract, closing your eyes right before the stylist hacks off your last five years of growth and protection, glancing around a packed auditorium just before your name is called and your diploma presented, the quick prayer before you open the oven and pull out your first turkey. Somehow I think these are what makes up who we are. It is in these snippits of time that we take up the courage of a hero and become. Taking a chance on the universe that it won't destroy us in our bout of self-definition and discovery, no matter how brief. These moments serve to define and develop us as the creatures living in our coats of skin. Maybe that is why change is so scary--not just because it alters the world we see but because it reveals in sharp focus what we see in ourselves--someone we might wish to alter and hide from the world. Self discovery is, of course, the most dangerous, worthy, exhausting quest there is. It is an eternal one because we are ever evolving. Finches have nothing on the human soul. And in these moments--the crossroads of greatness or failure we are given the choice--to fall or to fly. The slippery route to penguindom began at the same place as that of the mighty eagle. Natural selection demands that some fail, but human nature does not. So breathe. Breathe again. Drink in the moment, and become.

Unvarnished Obscurity

The empty space that fills this place
the daunting perfect white
before the pen has etched its path
desire and dreads unite

When first you dare to venture there
the newly finished bridge
untested to the load it bears
defenses down the ridge

Obscurity and security
crisp bed sheets in a crease
to face the unknown by myself
beloved echos ceased

Sunrise surfeit allures deceit
the oceans lying still
yet brackish tastes portend revolt
mind transforming will

What’s yet to be is up to me
"the angel in the stone"
chip splendor out of nothingness
perfection left alone