Loneliness and Gratitude

1. Inner Struggles
  I pulled my jacket tighter, the chill of the earth sinking through my shoes as I walked and the January cold that had leaked through into February was soaking through me. Chilling me to my bones. I had woken up that morning ready to turn back over and sleep "just five more minutes". Every ounce of  motivation I had to get up had already drained from my waking body. But I had dragged myself to get ready, barely managing to make my hair and makeup look the least bit presentable. Lost motivation that I still hadn't found two hours into my day. This was the kind of cold I hated. Every part of my body was aching; my hands, my ears, my heart. When I finally made it out of the cold and into my class I sat in the back. Barely managing to keep my eyes open through the 50 minutes of lecture. An engagement, a mission call; these things reminded me of how small I really felt. That somehow these big events in others lives made me look smaller, less important, sending chills down my spine. These big events of others all seemed to be adding weight to the already heavy anvil pushing on my chest. I walked out of class not saying a word to anyone. Back into the cold I nearly sprinted to the library to hide, at least there I didn't look like a loser for having no one to talk to. I sat, absorbing the warmth. Dreading the moment I would have to leave my safe haven. A phone buzzed across from me, a gentle reminder that someone was thinking of her. I pang of jealousy rushed through me. I, unexpectedly, reached for my phone and unlocked it. The screen blank. No friendly red dots to say hello, to remind me of my worth. I opened my computer and began searching through the blues for some kind of human contact. Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr. Slowly corrupting my safe haven into another reminder of my need to be "independent", my need to pretend I'm the "strong silent type". The anvil on my chest grew heavier. Forcing more pressure into my already tightened rib cage. I snapped my computer shut and sat there, wondering how to escape my corrupted safety. So much of me wanting to scream but within the crowded walls of books I stayed silent.
"I'm sorry" I thought.
10 in the morning and I was already apologizing for the way I felt.

2&3 Scripture, Personal and Powerful & A Wilderness Quest
 Growing up in Provo I was born into the LDS faith. For as long as I remember I was taught about Joseph Smith and his trip into the Grove. So when I hit the age of 12 and transferred to Young Women's this didn't change. I was given lesson after lesson about Joseph Smith, we sang about his first vision and other such things. When I went to girls camp my leaders had the wonderful idea of having a scheduled "grove time" where we went as a ward up into the woods and just read our scriptures, prayed, and pondered about life. This was some of the most amazing experiences I ever had. I was in my last year of Girls Camp when I really learned the worth of this activity. It had been a hard year and a lot tougher summer and I was struggling with some major decisions in my life. I was overwhelmed with life and began to doubt myself, my abilities and the timing of Lord. We had "grove time" a lot more than the majority of us would have liked and we were starting to burn out on it. I had decided to restart the book of Mormon in hopes that I could finish it in a timely manner. I sat there next to an aspen tree, burnt out on the "love of nature" everyone claims they have until they are actually confronted with nature. Aimlessly I read, letting my mind wander and letting 3 chapters pass without really knowing what I was reading. All the stresses of my life began to overwhelm me. I stared at those ivory pages and slammed the book shut. I ran my fingers through my smokey, greasy hair and thought of how desperately I wanted a shower. A yawn came to my lips and I tried to hold it back, but the tired overcame me  and I displayed the lack of sleep that I had wanted to hide. I put my head in my hands and let the stresses of life overcome me. I opened my scriptures once more and let the wind decide where I would read. It fell open to Mormon 9. I mindlessly read the chapter when I hit verse 16.
"Behold, are not the things that God hath wrought marvelous in our eyes? Yea, and who can comprehend the marvelous works of God?"
I looked up and realized the beauty that was all around me. Remembering the wonderful blessings that I had and feeling a sense of gratitude. I folded my arms and thanked the Lord.
The rest of girls camp was one of the best ones I'd ever had.

The First Visitation

There I sat on the couch of the Washington Kennewick Mission home. Before me sat my parents for the next two years. President and Sister Greer, my mission President and his sweet wife. I had only known them for a few hours at the most. In this short time of being within President Greers presence you just new he was a man with a great gift. I wasn’t sure what it was, but within a matter of minutes I had found out.

His ability to bring to life the scriptures and their teachings was something Elder Holland would even appreciate. I was about to be taught a lesson I thought I was prepared to teach as a new missionary. The first vision as I previously had known it. 

President Greer shared with us the first vision as told by Joseph Smith. “I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me….. When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing o the other- This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!”

I had heard this a million times. Then President Greer asked if what Joseph describes was really a vision. I was taken back, what else could it have been. Ya he saw God the Father and his son Jesus Christ. It was a vision… I thought. 

President Greer took us deeper into Josephs words. “I SAW a pillar of light…. I SAW two Personages, they SPAKE unto me.” Joseph didn’t just imagine this, he experienced it. He was visited personally. It was a visitation of the Father and Son, not something he just dreamed up. 

That night I was taken deeper into the scriptures and church history. The first vision is now the First Visitation for me. All because of a few words being magnified in a different perspective.