The Worth of a Soul is Great.

I really want to talk about a topic that I feel like nearly all women struggle with and often men as well. Self Esteem, Self Image, Confidence, Divine Nature, Eternal worth. I am going to share why first.

There is a woman I know who shall go unnamed. This woman is a mother of grown children. Her children are some of the kindest and most thoughtful people I know. This woman not only WOULD but HAS dropped everything to help me more times in the last 2 years than I can count on one hand. This woman has a job and is good at what she does. This woman has held many callings in the church and has helped woman feel their saviors love time and time over again. She is kind and caring and thoughtful. She is supportive and helpful. She taught me valuable lessons about organization that she doesn't even know she taught me. She taught me to value family pictures. This woman is Christ like to her core. I haven't ever heard her be unkind to or towards another soul. She is the very definition of good.

This woman also has the lowest self esteem of anyone I have ever met. When she is complimented she immediately brushes it off, somehow saying that it isn't so. She simply can't believe that she is worth what those around her tell her she is worth.  Seeing this breaks my heart. I wish so deeply that I could mind meld with her so she could see herself through my eyes.

This story could be about so many woman I know. It is about one particular woman, but I can think of 3 or 4 others who fits this general description off the top of my head. This cannot continue. It is so wrong at its core.

You see, We are Daughters of God. (I write this to the women, but it applies to the men as well) We are daughters of a king. We are as dear to him....dearer to him even....as our children are to us. I look at my sweet innocent perfect babies and they haven't learned this horrible behavior yet. They haven't learned how to do anything but shine. One of my favorite quotes by Marianne Williamson is a great place to start. I feel like if we all have the base understanding that she shares in this quote we will all be able to move forward on this journey together. She says:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Let's look at why this rings so true. Think about Children. Think about specific children in your life. Try to think about children under the age of 3 if possible. I am going to think about Lexi and Lincoln. Can you imagine me, their mother, telling Lexi, "Lexi, You look so beautiful today!" and having her reply, "No! Mom! I am not. I am ugly. You see, my thighs are too big, and I don't have a perfect smile." As her mother I would be crushed. She is my sweet daughter. She is absolutely perfect in every way. She is beautiful not because she could be a baby model, (though she easily could) but she is beautiful because she is mine. She is beautiful because she delights in learning. She is beautiful because she loves her brother and misses him when he is gone. She is beautiful because she is curious. She is beautiful because she exists. Can you imagine me telling Lincoln, "Lincoln! You did it! You are so smart!" and having him reply, "No! Mom! I am not. I never do anything as quickly as Lexi. She always gets everything before I do. I really must be a dummy." NO!!!! Sweet boy! Those things are not true! Your value and your worth are not dependent on another person's value or worth or success. You are smart regardless of anyone else. You're brain and your body worked together to learn how to walk, to sort shapes, to say such sweet precious words, to nod when your people pick the right food for lunch. You are smart because you can connect actions and reactions. Your value has nothing to do with anyone else. You have value because you are mine. You have value because I see every missed step and every time you get back up and try again. I see all of your failures, and I see all of your successes. You are precious because you don't know how to stop trying. When I look at you, my sweet boy, I don't see how many times you failed to say mama. I see the time you got it. I live for it.

Can't we see? Can't we understand? God see's us that way. We screw up somehow. For some it's feeling like we don't give enough, for others we aren't spiritual enough, for some its morality, for others its drugs. It doesn't matter what it is. God isn't up there mocking us for our failures. He isn't up there laughing at us for our imperfections. He is up there cheering us on just like we cheer our babies on while they learn to walk. He is grinning ear to ear with joy as we take our steps closer to him, even when we fall between our progresses. He could have the same conversations with us. "Oh my child. Can't you understand? You are of worth because you are mine. You are beautiful because you are kind, thoughtful and caring. You are smart because you try again and again until you succeed." If we could see ourselves through his eyes we wouldn't feel the need to hang our head in shame when we are complimented and deflect it with a deep feeling of unworthiness.

Maybe this has helped someone understand their worth, but some of you, like me, might need something more solid than a vivid word picture. How can you gain confidence and gain self esteem when we feel like we are at the bottom of the barrel so to speak? And backing up a step, Dana, Why are you qualified to talk to us about this in the first place? Well, I am human and I have my imperfections, but somehow though my experiences I have come out the other side stronger. I believe in myself even though I fail again and again. I know that I am beautiful, even though I can still see those pounds I would love to lose. I know that I am worth love even though sometimes I feel unlovable. I don't know that confidence and self esteem are areas anyone will ever be perfect in, but I believe that improving our self image will also improve our quality of life and our happiness. How am I qualified? I might not be, but I have to try. I can't stand back any longer without making an effort to help others become beacons of light.

I cannot 100% explain what happened to me. By all accounts, I shouldn't have the confidence I do. I was left by my husband for another woman. You would think that would make me feel worthless and empty, but I feel more now than ever before the worth of MY soul and the worth of every detail that is included in that pretty little soul. I may not be able to explain 100% HOW it happened, but I can do my best to explain the parts I DO understand in the hopes that someone out there can take it and run with it. So I analyzed what changes, actions, events, belief systems, etc happened in my life that affected my view of myself and came up with a few thoughts. Take them or leave them.

1.      At one point someone pointed out to me that anytime someone complemented me I deflected. I said things like, "you must be blind." or "You're wearing rose colored glasses." or "You must be crazy. I am not that great." I essentially was outright calling anyone who complemented me a liar. I could not believe any of the complements in my head, and so out loud I reinforced that they must not be true. This is one behavior that changed. I set for myself a rule. When I was complemented I was not allowed to say anything but "Thank you. That was very kind of you." I started there. But I added later that even in my brain, I wasn't allowed to deny their words. I forced myself to believe them. When someone called me beautiful, I consciously thought to myself, they wouldn't have said that if they didn't see something beautiful in me. I may have physical imperfections, but I am beautiful because even just one person see's me as such.

2.      Another change I made that really helped me to see the beauty and Christ-like attributes in myself was consciously notice and complement those attributes in others. I had learned something about myself earlier. When I am more judgmental about those around me, I tend to be more judgmental of myself. So when I consciously tried to give others the benefit of the doubt and only find the good in them, it actually made it easier to find the good and wholesome parts of myself as well. A second purpose that this accomplished was helping me see what others feel when they complement me and I essentially respond by telling them they must be lying. When I am actively looking for the good in someone and then I take the time to express to them how wonderful I think they are from my observations and they simply refuse to believe me, it almost felt like an insult. It felt like I was being called a liar. It felt like my views and opinions were viewed as worthless or not valid. Suddenly I was able to see that others might feel that way when they complemented me as well. Maybe they REALLY did think I looked beautiful. Maybe they really didn't notice my huge zit on my face and my belly budge sticking out. Maybe they really noticed the soul of a child of God peaking through my imperfect body and maybe they really found it to be beautiful.

3.      Another action that helped my confidence to grow in a completely different way was something my mom taught me in high school that I learned by experience later in life. I struggled seriously bad with depression and worthlessness. In high school I literally had rock bottom self esteem. I couldn't understand why or how anyone could love me. I felt like a waste of space. My mom and I were driving one day talking about it and she said something that changed my life. I wish I could directly quote her, but I can only convey the idea, which was if you want to feel impressed with yourself, you have to do something that will impress yourself. Somehow that thought struck a chord with me. I made a few goals that were challenging to me, but not unreachable. I worked hard and achieved my goals and suddenly I felt a little better about myself. I must have worth because I could do something of value. I learned this lesson again and again. I did cross country in HS and I literally came in last in EVERY race....like....10 minutes behind the last person kind of last. I was told to quit by my coach. By my friends. Even by my mom. But I couldn't. I had to prove to myself that I could do hard things, and that was the best thing I could have done. When you do something awesome enough to impress yourself, it's a lot easier to feel like an impressive person, worth being loved. Every time my self esteem rose throughout the next few years it was because I worked hard and was able to achieve a goal. I grew up being told I was a ditzy dumb blonde and let's be honest, I earned the title more and more the more I was called it. Well I still have my moments, but through hard work in several different jobs I was able to rise up and receive promotions. I saw other people who I admired and respected get these promotions before me. I could see their worth. Can you imagine how great it felt to work hard and see myself suddenly in their shoes for my efforts?

4.      The fourth thing that made the biggest difference in my life was turning to Christ. I made a commitment as a young girl that nothing that happened to me would ever shake my testimony. Growing up I understand it better. My commitment wasn't that hard things wouldn't make me re-discover my faith in a newer and deeper way. My commitment was that no trial that happened could make me change course. My course would always be to fight for faith not fear. To allow Christ to heal instead of turning to things of the world. My commitment was to never turn my back on him. I cannot explain how this improved my self confidence tangibly, but my commitment to him is a huge part of why I feel so comfortable in my skin. The realizations that I had at the beginning of this post about how my worth to God is more than my children's worth to me, only came because I was doing the things I needed to be doing. I was praying. I was going to church. I was reading my scriptures. I was going to Institute. Doing these things allowed me to be in the places I needed to be to feel the things I needed to feel so that I could heal. So that I could not allow the actions of someone else to canker my soul. So that I could feel the complete freedom that comes with complete forgiveness. Christ not only healed me, but he gave and continues to give me glimpses of myself through his eyes, and man! It is a wonderful sight.

You see, I am a daughter of God. I have infinite possibilities. I can be whatever I chose to be. I have worked hard to become a woman of faith. I have worked hard to develop attributes like kindness, thoughtfulness, caring, gratitude, gentleness, sweetness, and persistence. I can see my flaws and not be imprisoned by them but be liberated by the knowledge that I can grow past them. I am beautiful and not because I fit the definition of worldly beauty, but because I am created in the Lords image. I am beautiful because I am his creation. I am beautiful because I am his and he doesn't create anything but beauty. I am smart. My intelligence doesn't have to be compared to my brothers, my friends, or my co-workers. I am intelligent because I am diligent and will keep trying until I understand. I am compassionate and empathetic because I have walked the less walked path. I am not judgmental because I have made too many of the same mistakes myself.

I really hope that I am not misunderstood. The goal of this post is not to brag about how infinitely awesome I am. the goal of this post is to use my experience to help even just one person see how infinitely awesome THEY are. I hesitate to even post this entry because I don't want my motives to be misunderstood. But I am counting on the hope that someone out there will see the light I am shining through my words, and that something I have written will help them let their light shine so they can "unconsciously give other people permission to do the same."

The Son that was Lost

So there I am at church, It has been a LONG sacrament meeting. The twins have been running at top speed the whole time. This week was the primary program and it was wonderful, but went pretty far over time. So the meeting ends and the lady sitting at the end of the row asks if she can let Lexi out into the isle when it looks like I am about ready to take her and Lincoln down to Nursery. I say sure and as I am about to walk out after her, the lady in front of me starts talking to me. I am trying to be polite and answer her question while at the same time making sure to keep Lexi in sight. The result is me looking like I am watching a tennis match on fast forward. Finally Lexi exits the Chapel, into the hall and I realize my conversation needs to be terminated yesterday. I ask my mom to finish answering her question for me and I race out after Lexi, weaving in and out of people, elbowing old ladies in the way. I get out into the hall and I realize that I see Lexi, but I can't find Lincoln. I turn around and look back in the pew to see if maybe he is still in our row with Grandma, but he isn't there. I don't see his little blonde head bobbing up and down between me and grandma either.....I race back to the hall and search diligently for him there too, while still trying to keep Lexi in my sights. I make it as far as the hall that breaks off the main foyer and he isn't down that hall either, he isn't on the stairs, he isn't by the drinking fountain, as far as I can tell, the boy simply vanished. I turn around and in a moment of pure tender mercy, I see Ben Murry sitting near the door to the chapel and I realize that he has been there for a while....I hurry to within shouting distance and call out, "Ben! Did you see Lincoln come out?" and he looks down at lexi a few people away and asks, "Did you mean Lexi?" I am feeling exasperated by this time, "No, I mean Lincoln. I know where Lexi is, but I can't find Lincoln.....did you see him?"

Well, Apparently I was holding him. The whole time. Yup. I am clearly that awesome. Poor guy. I just was so focused on not losing Lexi that I wasn't thinking straight, and then I thought the weight of him was the bag I was carrying I guess. I am sure that the fact that I have averaged 4-5 hours of sleep per night this week has NOTHING to do with it. Is it bedtime yet?

Forgiveness. A journey.

Foreword: I hope you will forgive the overly personal nature of this post. As always, but particularly today, I share my personal feelings and experiences in the hopes that they will touch someone's heart, allowing them to find the same peace I have found through the atonement and through allowing myself to forgive.  

What is forgiveness? What makes it possible for us to forgive others? Especially when the hurt is deep and intense. Or maybe when the hurt isn't directed at us but our children, parents, siblings, or friends? What makes it possible to allow that pain and hurt and anger and bitterness to go? I used to think that time was the healing factor, and maybe there is something to be said for time, but I am convinced that isn't the only factor. For example, how do you forgive someone NOW for pain they are STILL causing and pain they are going to CONTINUE causing in your life or in the lives of your loved ones? How can you forgive future offenses?

These are all questions that I have been grappling with for several months. I felt like I had forgiven Brian for the pain he had caused me, personally. I felt free from that dark and deep enemy of bitterness. But then he met the twins for the first time when they were 16 months old and suddenly I had so much hate and anger in my soul I felt like I might explode at any minute and possibly on an undeserving person. I could handle him not being a part of the kids lives and I could handle him being a full and active part of their lives, but what I felt he was doing was dropping in when it was convenient. I worried that he would wait another year and a half before his next visit and the reason that concerned me is because I know how it would affect my children. How confusing and hurtful it would be to them to know they had a Dad somewhere in the world, but to see him less than once a year. I grieved for their pain. I could just imagine them asking me, "Mommy? Does my Dad Love me? Why doesn't he come see me more often? Why am I the only one in my primary class who's Daddy doesn't live them them? etc." I could just imagine Lexi growing up having daddy issues because of the inconsistency. I could imagine Linc not knowing how to treat women or how to be a father because his father wasn't there for him. And certainly my children have wonderful examples all around them through other righteous and wonderful men, for which I am truly grateful, yet I was terrified to the depths of my soul for the damage that their father was creating day by day because of his lack of presence.

I didn't want my soul to be darkened and held down by the anger and bitterness I was feeling, but I was finding it nearly impossible to let it go when the offense was still happening.   Around this time, my dear friend, Sarah Murray, shared a poem with me that she had written after her own experience with letting go of pain and hurt through forgiveness.

The poison roots spread thick and deep,
Are reaching down and up and steep.
The blossoms drop with oozing puss,
That stings, and burns and smells like dross.

This tree of Malice with roots so thick,
Is the Deceiver's oldest, cruelest trick.
First it starts with the spore of pain,
Then spreads to hurt, then anger, then shame.

Though the fault of sorrow isn't yours to bear,
By nurturing enmity, hatred and care,
The spore soon turns from shrub to tree,
Then sucks and shrinks your soul, you see.

You can clear, and carve, and try to purge,
But when one stem's gone, another will emerge.
The more you examine and fret on this beast,
The more the poison on you will feast.

So how do you clear this terrible muck?
And free yourself from whence you are stuck?
You don't.
You can't.
It's not your job.
You've tried and tried with every sob.

The answer lies in one little word.
Forgiveness is this gleaming sword.
But this heavy sword is not yours to wield,
And neither is the gleaming shield.

For the hardest job of all, in the end,
Is letting go of hate, my friend.
Those two little words, "I forgive,"
Will be the means to let you live.

You see, the Hero of us all,
Has already fought and suffered this Fall.
He drank the bitter, poisoned root,
Absorbed your sorrow, that pierced his foot.

So the sword is his.
The shield he wields.
And when you make this hardest choice,
And whisper with convicted voice,

'I forgive my enemy',
It is only then that you are free.
For letting go of poisoned vines,
Is giving up a land of mines.

But when you do, and you shall see,
He's vaporized that ghastly tree.
For all that's left is an empty room,
With sunlight streaming through the gloom.

And if you look and scour and search,
There is no trace of that deathly birch.
For what you have instead of pain,
Is pure joy bursting from your frame.

For you are free and you are pure,
And the whole world is yours to explore!
And when you think upon this space,
You'll know He's made YOU a holy place.

As she read this poem to me, Tears were streaming down my face. I had experienced that feeling before of being free from that terrible pain, but I couldn't comprehend how to find it again when the offense was continually being committed every second of every day. I have spent months trying to understand with no break through or answer becoming clear.

Today at church, Crystal Field, a dear friend, sang a musical number that touched my heart. I happen to know exactly how much time she spent worrying and fussing over the song, wanting it to be just perfect and more importantly wanting it to be the song that someone needed to hear that day. What she didn't know is that I, the person who asked her to sing, was the person who needed to hear her song. She had received special permission to sing a song that wasn't in the hymn book, "Consider the Lilies." (Click this link to hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's rendition. The story is more effective when you hear the music while you read the feelings I had while listening to the song)  I have heard the song countless times and haven't ever given it a second thought until I heard her beautiful, clear, perfect voice sing the third verse.

Consider the sweet, tender children 

At this point I have my sweet Lexi on my lap. I am thinking of her and Lincoln. After all, what children are more sweet and tender?

Who must suffer on this earth. 

At this point the tears are streaming down my face because of the pain that I know is in store for them. My sweet little Lexi looks up to see why her head is getting so wet, and seeing my tears, she gently touches my face as if to tell me that it will all be ok.

The pains of all of them He carried from the day of his birth.

And at this moment I it came full circle in my mind. I know how the atonement works personally and intimately. I am well aware that my Savior suffered every pain and affliction and heartache and grief so he could succor his people. Me specifically. I have felt him carry me when I was too broken and disheveled to carry myself. I have felt his strength when I had nothing left to give. I know his strength is real for myself. The problem was that I hadn't applied that knowledge to my children. If Christ could and had healed MY pain and MY sorrow, then couldn't he also heal theirs? Did I believe in the atonement enough that I believed he could take their sorrow and pain too? Did I believe that his atonement could make fair for them what their father was making unfair?

Before I had thought this grievous thing that he had done and was still doing was causing damage that couldn't be undone and I simply couldn't bare the fact that someone could emotionally destroy my children that way without there being a single thing I could do to stop it. I couldn't forgive him because I couldn't see a way for the pain he would cause to be fixed. But it can. Just like Christ has always been there for me and even more than he has been there for me he WILL be there for my children. We know from the scriptures that Christ has a tender place in his heart for the children. He will carry them through their pain. And because he allowed a way for my children to be whole despite this gaping lack of their father's presence in their life, I can forgive Brian. And now, Like Sarah said, What I have instead of pain is PURE JOY bursting from my frame. I feel peace. I can sit back and know that God is God and that he has a plan for me. For my children. I know that we will be ok.

So what is forgiveness? It is trusting the Lord to be in charge of justice and mercy and judgement. It is recognizing that there is no hurt and no pain that another human soul can cause that the savior hasn't already felt specifically so he can walk our path with us. It is recognizing that because our hurt, mangled and broken heart can be mended, possibly that same atonement can mend the offenders heart. It is a paradigm shift from selfishly demanding that the offender pay for his sins to selflessly granting them the same mercy that our master has already granted us. It is recognizing that these principles apply yesterday, today and forever, regardless of the offense. 

Love is selflessness

I have been thinking a lot about love today. What is love? How is it defined? How do you know if you are truly loved by someone? How do you know if you truly love another person? I have read the 5 love languages book several times over. I think there is a lot to say for his perspective on love, but for some reason it doesn't feel completely accurate to me. It is still missing something. The five love languages are Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Physical Touch, Quality time and Acts of service. I grew up completely not understanding how any soul could possibly feel loved by acts of service. How does mowing the lawn translate into love? Dishes? Laundry? Any of it? It seemed like the most unromantic of all of the languages to me. Today I was thinking about that a lot. Acts of service really has grown on me exponentially throughout the last 4-5 years, yet up until tonight I still held on to a piece of my past feelings. It's great and all, but not the way I prefer to feel love.

 

Not anymore. I have been converted and I want to tell you why. True Love is selflessness. When you really love someone you want what is best for them. You want to make them happy. Your thoughts change from self centered to centered on that person. Their needs become more important to you than your own needs. Their dreams become your dreams because you want to see the look on their face when they realize their dreams. Love has been made over in this world of ours to look like something other than what it should be. All of the movies and magazines and articles scream at us that Love is all about sex. They tell us that looks should be the primary factor in love. Physical touch is made to be the primary love language. Movies often show the physical progression of a relationship without much in the way of the emotional and cognitive sides. But that's just the thing. Physical touch isn't a bad thing, but it comes back to one basic principle. Love is selfless. If there is any other motive, it becomes lust or manipulation. Not love. Affection is important in a relationship. It is essential in a healthy relationship, but it the key is motive. The minute our physical relationship is about what it does for me instead of for you it has turned from lust to love. The same principle is found in all of the languages. They can be a show of love or a manipulation depending on the motive behind them. The words "I love you," for example, when said while a spouse is neglecting his or her companion are not an expression of love. They are a manipulation that says instead, "I know that I am spending my time on something or someone other than you, and I don't want you to be mad at me, but I don't want to put you first, so I will use these words to try to placate you." Yet those same words when said by a spouse who has just cleaned up the puke of their pregnant sweetheart carry more weight. They say, "You are my companion through better or worse, and though throw up is nasty and makes me feel queasy, you need me right now and I will be here to take care of you because you mean the world to me." The same principle can be carried through all of the languages.

 

This leads me to conclude that the difference is all in the motive. It is in the selflessness. I now proudly say that my primary Love language is Acts of service. What is there that is more romantic than that? I have been that wife who carries more than her fair share of the work load in the household. Dishes need to be done. Laundry needs to be done. Bathrooms need to be cleaned. The lawn needs to be mowed. The list is never ending. A household has chores that have to be done. I think when I was younger I didn't understand that. The reason must have been that I didn't know what it takes to keep up a house. How can you truly appreciate all that your mother and father do for you when you've never had to do what they do yourself? After having been in a marriage that required me to do all of that, I fully appreciate the work load. Now that I have the privilege to live with my parents I get the unique opportunity to watch my parents again as role models from the perspective of an adult. I see the kind and tender things they do for each other and for me and my babies and it is enough that it brings tears to my eyes. The trash doesn't walk itself out the door, yet somehow, it makes it out and every time it goes out that I wasn't  the one who had to take it I recognize that it is someone in my home screaming their love to me. Someone, whether it was my mom, my dad or my brother, someone loved me and this family enough that they put our collective needs before their own. Before sitting down and relaxing they took the trash out. There is nothing that means more. Why? it's not a matter of worldly romance. It is a matter of one soul placing the needs of another soul above their own. A husband going to work 40-50 hours every week to put food on her table and a roof over her head. A wife taking the hours to prepare his favorite meal at 5:30 PM sharp. The husband who nearly kills himself during the week with his workload who then uses his Saturday to mow the lawn instead of go golfing. The mother that stays up all night with a sick baby so the husband can function at work. The wife who goes stir crazy in the house all day without a car so that her husband can use it to go to work. Examples could go on and on. These people making sacrifices of themselves because they have MADE THE CHOICE to actively love their spouse by serving them. There is nothing more romantic to me than that, Than the active choice to selflessly love and serve another person. So yes, Acts of Service is my primary Love language. I think it always has been, I just never understood it before. I still love and appreciate all of the others. After all, who doesn't appreciate any gesture that says, "I was thinking of you, so I bought you your favorite treat/took the afternoon off so we could go fishing together/wrote you a love letter/gave you a foot and back massage?"

 

I have been so scared of the idea of being in a relationship again. I think this understanding ties right in to that. I think I was scared because nearly all of my dating/marriage relationships have been with men, or rather boys, who romanced with their own interests at heart. I think at times I probably had my own interest at heart as well. But as I am contemplating this true definition of love I realize that I DO know how to love in that complete and total selfless way. I realize also that if I found a man who loved me by caring for my interest needs above his own, I wouldn't have an ounce of fear in being with him forever and a day.

 

That is the man I am looking for. That is the relationship I am looking for. That is the self that I am striving to become. So how to proceed? Work to become as selfless as possible so when Prince Selfless himself comes along he sees a mirror of himself in that way in me. Ready. Set. Go.

 

 

 

Quotes that fit:

"Being in love isn't a feeling. It is a choice. It is an action. It is a habit." -Unknown

"Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense. It is not resentful." -A Walk to Remember

The House That Built Me

I have heard people say that Music is the Language of heaven and I would have to agree. There have been too many times in my life that I have heard a song that somehow communicated a meaning to my soul deeper than words alone could have.

Today I had one of those experiences. I was driving and Miranda Lamberts song, "The House That Built Me" came on the radio. (Feel free to look it up on Youtube....hearing it makes a difference) I have heard that song countless times before and always liked it because of its sound, but never really connected to it. Today was different. As I listened to the story behind the song as well as the words I was touched by the thoughts that came up. It was as though these thoughts were being placed in my brain rather than my brain creating the thoughts.

The story is about a woman who takes quite a drive to get to her old house that she grew up in. She is feeling lost and broken and is searching, yearning, aching, for some sense of the self she used to know. She goes to her old house out of desperation, singing, "I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside of me might starting healing. Out here it's like I'm someone else, I thought that Maybe I could find myself.... if I could just come in, I swear I'll leave, Won't take nothing but a memory from the house that built me." I realized that I fit this girls story in my own way.

I have little emotional attachment to any specific house I lived in growing up, but I have that exact same attachment to that girl that I used to be....before. I moved to Utah a happy-go-lucky, simple little girl and I came home a deeply emotionally destroyed wretch. Not only was I treated poorly, but I also changed myself so I could cope with my situation more easily. I eventually learned to numb every ounce of myself so I couldn't feel anything. You see, if you can't feel at all then you can't feel pain and it's worth it. Not feeling anything, even the spirit seemed a small price to pay for never having to feel the complete lack of hope and total despair.  So when came home I had some of those some feelings as our girl from the story. I felt like when I was here, in tricities before, I was someone else. I wasn't that broken weak girl that I had become. I wanted her back, so I came back.....but to what? What was my "House that built me" so to speak? What was it that could remind me of who I was and fill that emptiness? She is trying to fill her emptiness and fix her brokenness by visiting a house in hopes that it will remind her of who she is. In hopes that it will give her a sense of self back. So what is it for me? I was searching for that distant person, but where could I turn? Where could I look?

And then it hit me. I happened to be on my way to the temple while this whole thought process was taking place. It was to be my first time back to the temple in around 9 months, give or take. At one point after moving back home the temple had become my safe haven. It had become a place that I went weekly to commune with my father in heaven. There was nothing I loved more than being in the celestial room, that peaceful beautiful, quiet and perfect room, praying my soul out, often crying my heart out. It was the one place that I felt like I could pray and receive answers to my prayers and actually trust them. I had come from a rough emotional place and was building back my faith in my father in heaven week by week. And then life hit. My schedule changed, I started school, and suddenly time for the temple was few and far between. And slowly I started losing all that ground I had worked so hard to gain. I was lost. Without going into too much detail, for several months I didn't have a recommend. I COULDN'T go to the temple. It was a hopeless and helpless feeling. "You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can. I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am"  Well it has been a long hard road, but tonight, for the first time in way way too long, I was on my way to the temple.

And Those are the circumstances this song found me in. This poor girl, in her story is searching desperately for the emptiness and coldness and brokenness inside her to heal. I have been so broken and so empty and cold. And, like her, I was going back to the house that built me. The house of the Lord. "I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside me might start healing. Out here it's like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself. If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave, won't take nothing but a memory from the house that built me......" All of the sudden the song holds so much more meaning. I know I can't ever go back and be that little girl again. I can't be that carefree teenager. I can't change where I have been. I am a divorced, single mother of twins.I can't be that little girl sitting on daddy's lap without a care in the world again. I can't go back to THAT house that built me. But I CAN become rebuilt in HIS House. I can become a peaceful being in HIS house.  I can build my testimony and faith continually. I can become a strong woman of courage. I may not be able to get the old girl back, but something tells me the one I will end up being will be far better. Step. By. Step.