Lost Again. Grr.

I love driving--always have. My dad would say I'm not very good at it--that I'm a little too impulsive, that I lack a little common sense, and that I'm not quite as cautious as I probably should be. That being said, I love driving. That being said, I am absolutely terrible at following directions. I get lost so often that often when I call home in the middle of the day mom asks where I'm at so she can look me up on mapquest and find the best directions to where I need to go. I get so mixed up and turned around, but as my frustration levels rise my sense of direction (if it's even possible) gets even worse and I am even more lost than before--this time with even less patience. So I drive faster, with even less caution, going farther with even less care than I had before.

For example, today I was looking for an apartment complex for visiting teaching--not a single apartment mind you, but an entire complex. It was one I had been to several times, and I was of course running late, so rather than look up directions like I usually do I decided to just go for it. Like I said, I have been there several times so I figured I could just get there. I almost don't even need to say it, but I got lost. Really lost. What should have been a 10-15 minute drive turned into a thirty minute excursion where I ended up in a neighboring city and had to completely reschedule our appointment for later that day. How one loses an entire complex I am still not sure.

I feel sometimes like life can be like that when we aren't careful. Having such a fun time getting wherever we are going that we don't care too much about where exactly that is or the path we are taking to get there. Frustrating all around, I suppose.

Easter

This year I prepared for Easter by reading about the last days of Savior’s life as close to the corresponding days as I could figure—something I hadn’t done before. It turned out to be an extremely spiritual experience. I felt closer to Him than I have in the past, not just because the season is so focused on Him but because I felt like I spent more time with Him as He prepared for His destiny. I felt a little bit of guilt as He asked His disciples if they couldn’t wait up for Him. How many of His messages and requests have I inadvertently ignored? How many times has He had to give me the same instruction and I didn’t follow it? How many times have my actions told Him and others that I denied knowing Him like Peter did? I felt His love as He washed His disciples’ feet and told them to love and serve one another. I felt His love for Mary as He spoke her name—how must she have felt?

More than anything though, studying the atonement this way made it more significant. I often wonder what I was doing as a Spirit while the atonement was taking place. I’ve always pictured the whole hosts of heaven watching in overwhelming gratitude, helplessness and apprehension as that the most significant of all events unfolded. I wonder if I felt guilt for the sins I hadn’t even committed yet as I watched my beloved Savior’s pain as he paid for them. He is my Savior. Christ suffered all for me and my family and everyone I will ever meet. His love is perfect and endless, His character bright and unvarnished. He is the ultimate example in every aspect. His love for me is something I will never be able to earn; His love for others is something I will never be able to perfectly emulate.

How grateful I am for my testimony of Him that forms my actions, beliefs, dreams, and behaviors. If there is anything good about me at all, it can all be tied back to Him and His gospel. He loves me. This is something I still can’t really wrap my head around—that a being such as He could love someone like me, but I know He does because I feel it. I feel it when I read His words, when I hold a child, when I admire His creations, when I try and follow His words. And I felt it 2 weeks ago on the anniversary of His triumph over death and sin.