Meeting In The Living Room of Memories

I opened my off-white bedroom door, hearing the familiar creak that would accompany it only after it was two thirds of the way open. I walked down the hallway, avoiding the parts of the floor that seemed to cry in anguish when stepped on, towards my family room, which had light protruding from it. The hustle and bustle of life was overwhelmingly loud: kids were running and screaming everywhere, playing tag or driving pretend cars through the adults' legs, my brothers talked about work and their recent endeavors sporadically while listening to the game that was on the television, and the women in our family spoke of what women talk about, their topics of conversation never on one consistent track.

The couches in my family room weren't big enough to hold everyone, so the men had slid the rolling chairs from the kitchen to the edge of where the dining room hardwood met the family room carpet so they could be a part of the conversation that would soon begin. The setup was almost like every other family gathering: Christmas, except the people are split up into their own families, facing the Christmas tree in front of the window, and kids sitting impatiently on the floor waiting for their toys to be opened before they can go play. Birthday parties, where everyone sits randomly and the birthday girl/boy sits with almost a whole couch to themselves to make room for their presents. New Years, except with our family more centered around the table and the food, rather than the usual carpeted gathering place.

So many memories decorate the smells and the laughter of the room constantly occupied with people: Announcements that someone is pregnant, the laughter and competitive spirits created by the new Wii placed in front of the living room, the music that our family seems to somehow be centered on from fun nights of karaoke and dance parties, the center of blanket forts and cardboard box towns, a home theater filled with reclining chairs and popcorn, and even a counseling office. My family has seen it all and have been strengthened by the activities that our family room has held.

It was unusual to have every single family member present at that same time. Every special occasion seems to always have someone missing; whether for work or travels or something unexpected. But this occasion had everyone there, laughing and enjoying the stories; memories made together. Everyone was there because this occasion was different.

There, in the middle of all the craziness, were my parents, holding hands, distant, but still smiling at the recalled memories. This was odd for my mom to be sitting in a house full of people, normally she'd be up making food of some sort, or getting her grandkids drinks. But not this time, she just sat next to my dad, tears and fears showing themselves in her wise and understanding brown eyes. Trials and adversity polka-dotted their marriage and the love that they had made at such a young age. They faced each trial together, as a team, and never let the other fall. The next one would be no excuse to their unity.

I sat down on the floor, my back leaning against the piano bench that faces the east wall. The immense amount of emotions in me conflicted in every way, making me feel hollow. One thing I knew for sure: I was grateful for my family, and I loved them. I knew that what the near future held for us was going to bring our family even closer together. We would need each other to lean on.

Sitting there, observing my family, I thought of 3 Nephi 7:4 "Now behold, there was no man among them save he had much family and many kindreds and friends; therefore their tribes became exceedingly great." Not only did we have a lot of family in that room, but because we had a family, we were "exceedingly great." My family is not perfect. We are not the typical American Dream family. But we still have something precious and of great worth just being part of a family. My family is the biggest support I have. They lift me up. They have helped me grow into the person I am today. They are priceless and of exceedingly great importance to me.

My family, the one that has bonded over years of meeting in that family room, came together again that night with a different fear than any of us had felt before. We had all fasted that day - even the family member who had separated himself from religion - for my mom. The kids had finally all come to a stop at the foot of the couches, sensing the somberness, as we sat in silence for a few moments. Tears flowed easily from even the strongest of eyes. And then, in the middle of the living room that cemented our memories together, as one exceedingly great and giant family, we knelt in prayer for my mom, who was going in to surgery to have her breast cancer removed the following day.

The family pictures that were taken before my mom's surgery.

He Is There

An Inner Struggle:
I stared at the six pieces of paper in front of me. I was sitting at my kitchen table, surrounded by the yellow glow that our kitchen light gives off at eleven o'clock at night. I stared with empty eyes at the papers, knowing I had to pick one. I had been given a few months to make this decision and time was coming to a close. Constantly this question had been on my mind, praying more each day at which decision would be best. But I felt that no answer had come.
I looked at each paper, all of them saying that I had been accepted to their university, and I knew that I had a big decision ahead of me. I had always wanted to go to Brigham Young University, which was the first letter of acceptance I had laid down. Then it was Dixie State, University of Utah, Southern Utah University, Utah State, and BYU-Idaho. I had been given tours of each school, but nothing screamed "This is the place!" Fortunately, on a few of the tours, I got a feeling that I shouldn't go to that particular college. Remembering those experiences, I pushed Utah State University's and BYU-Idaho's papers off to the side. I was still left with four choices.
No matter how many times I had prayed, there seemed to be no concrete answer. The choice was mine. I knew that what was in store for me depended solely upon which college I chose. Maybe my yearning so badly for BYU had blocked out any help that I could have received by not accepting any other answer. The anxiety raged through me. Should I go where my sister's family wants me to go? Should I follow my sister's path at a different college? Should I go where my parents want me to go? Should I avoid BYU because that's where my brother doesn't want me to go? Should I go where all of my friends are going? Should I stay as close as possible to my family? Where will I be able to learn the most? Where would be the best experience for me?

Scripture:
It was December and I was in eighth grade. It was almost Christmas, and my mom and I had driven to Layton to do some quick Christmas shopping. I had just put my seatbelt on as we drove out of the parking lot. I don't remember why, but I had been playing with my seatbelt, seeing how it locked if you jerked forward really fast.
We turned left at the stoplight into another lane that had just stopped at their stoplight. As we sat at the light for a few seconds, out of nowhere I felt my seatbelt lock against my body as I involuntarily jerked forward. I screamed as I realized we had just gotten ran into by a fast moving truck. The guy behind us got out, looked at our car, looked at his truck, and started screaming swear words while kicking his tires. I remember hearing the panic in her voice as my mom said, "Tori, don't get out of the car. We're okay." Instantly, there was a cop on the scene, as the drunk driver of the truck had just swerved to miss the police officer's car and ran into ours.
I was inconsolable for about an hour after the accident. The kind officer spoke to me in a calm voice, but nothing could help me.
Before my mom and I left the scene after we were cleared to do so, she pulled off into a parking lot to have a prayer with me. Before we got going, I pulled out my iPod that had my scriptures in it. I randomly chose a scripture, and I came across John 14:27 "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." I needed that scripture to help me in that time. It helped me feel peace in a terrifying time; providing a comfort that I gave me strength I could not have received in any other way.

Wilderness Quest:
I drove in silence one night this past summer. I needed time away from everyone. My phone was tossed in the back so no one could get ahold of me. Everything was just too overwhelming, and I just needed to be alone for once. I drove all over town, and found myself at an LDS (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latte-Day Saints) church. It was almost ten o'clock, and I didn't even care how long I was out, as long as I finally told everything to Heavenly Father. I vented in the back of that parking lot for two hours, crying, begging, grasping for understanding. I just needed hope.
It was there, in those two hours, that I finally felt like someone was on my side. I felt like someone was there cheering for me. I knew everything was going to be okay. I heard answers in my thoughts. I knew we were considering all of the possibilities together.
I gained a deeper understanding and appreciation of God that night. We drew closer, and I gained a better testimony of Him. I'm grateful for that drive and that conversation through the wilderness that night, because of the change that happened in me through Him.




I parked at a church much like this one on a late summer's night.





Finding and Claiming Myself

Internal Struggle:

            It had to be today; it could go on no longer. I had been carrying the burden for far too long. As I sat at my study desk, blankly staring at my scriptures, I had made the decision so many times in the past. But I would always take a hit off the intellectual drug called rationalization right after, and my decision would slowly dissipate away from me: but not this time. It couldn’t get away from me this time; I needed a release from the load I was carrying. Though I was determined to stubbornly carry it, falsely assuming in my own strength and willpower, I was cracking and breaking down. I left the room and took the phone with me. I nervously paced the living room trying to work up the slightest bit of courage to go through with it. It was the fear of the unknown that paralyzed me and put fear into my soul. I would dial the number, and then quickly hang up, praying to God to give me the strength to just go through with it. I couldn’t go a day further with this poison in my soul. I dialed once again, this time with the strength to let it ring a couple of times, and then he picked up.

Scripture:

I seek daily reminders to help me in my struggles throughout life. They can come from all sorts of people and in all sorts of forms, but the most impactful come from the one who is always watching over me. Helaman 7:16-20 is just one of those examples of his watchful care over me. How could I ever let myself give any power to the one who is seeking to hurl my soul down into the bitterness of Hell? How could I ever forget my great and merciful God in the day that he saved me? These questions I must ask myself when I see myself stray and stumble. Because it’s so frustrating of how clear and cut it is and how stupid I can be at times, knowing the things I do. His answer is always the same “repent ye, repent ye! Why will ye die? Turn ye, turn ye unto the Lord your God”. Step by step, I try to better myself and become something more, trying everyday to never forget my God.

Wilderness Quest:

            “Well we got nothing until the night, wanna try to walk to Mundial?” This statement would lead to the next 4-5 hours of walking uphill in the dust, not even coming close to the intended place we wanted to get too. What this walk was truly accomplishing was nothing for the work, but trying to find my footing once again in this area. I was once again struggling as the area was collapsing around me, and I needed God’s help. Every step and every breath seemed like a waste of time as we climbed and climbed.  I felt like a failure, the leader turning to a useless hill climb to kill time masquerading as an activity that would help our area. Though I felt like I was failing, I was also feeling peace and comfort with each step we made. The reassuring trust of my God that I was doing my best and that was good enough for him. As we made that long and dusty hike in the hot African sun, I was trying to find myself again, as well as seek out the help of my God. But in reality I didn’t find God, but God found me out on that hill.

Doubt Not, Fear Not

Wrestling the Future

I lie awake in my bed wrestling within my own thoughts about the future direction I must go. My current responsibility is to teach the Gospel of Jesus Christ to those whom I have been called to serve. But what about that day when I wake up and am forbidden to put the tag on again? I need a plan, I must be prepared. So there I lay, pondering anxiously about which runway that will give my life flight.

Do I return to the school that had given me so much confidence in myself. Providing personal opportunities that never would have been imagined at another institution. Or do I take into consideration that with the age change of missionaries perhaps the other school has less attendance allowing a greater opportunity to get accepted. What about my friends at my first school who I have known since young ages. I need them still don’t I? Their support is more then they will even know. To transfer schools is more than just an educational adjustment. Its life changing in every sense.

The struggle is real, reasons to stay are valid, the reasons to transfer are worthy. My heart is torn between the future opportunities at the new school are there, the safe and known opportunities at the first school are there and will be there should I choose to return. As I fought back and forth that particular night, the answer came soft and quickly. I was to at the very least apply to the new school and the feeling was clear that I would be accepted. 

I was honestly appalled. I didn’t really want that answer. For the last 16 months of my life I had been teaching exhorting and inviting people to follow the promptings of the spirit. Now it was time to live what I was teaching. Act upon the impression and walk with faith. The inner struggle almost instantly ceased to be a worthy struggle if I would only trust the spirit. It still requires faith, but its easier to set aside the “what ifs” and just move forward with faith. 

Doubt Not, Fear Not

High School can try a young wavering heart. Its a time when youth are either grasped tightly to the teaching of the Gospel or holding on loosely to the coat tails of a peer. They may come to seminary just so mom and dad will hand them the keys, they will come so that they can enjoy their friday night. Occasionally the lesson may prick their heart, but they will fight it and sit there forcing themselves to fight the spirit and what its teaching them. 

It was a privilege to be on the council that would be responsible to find a scripture that would be used as our year theme. Something that would help students feel the love of their Father in heaven and his confidence in them. Prayerfully we as a council came to the conclusion of Doctrine and Covenants 6:36 “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not fear not.” 

It was our hope that this scripture could help those that were only there come to a greater knowledge of God. That it would help those students that already were engaged find faith and hope in the things they still doubted. This verse did just that. Little did we know the role it would play for those in the council. One lost his brother and the other her mother during our senior year. They were able to lead by living this verse and clinging to its doctrine. Other students admired that and together as seminary students we grew in our faith and trust of the Savior that year.

Wild Study

The clock almost seems to be screaming 8:00am. Its december and the heater is failing to do its job. My cold clammy hands are hurrying to handle the neck tie. My feet frantically search for my slippers and as i race down the stairs my hands steal the blanket from the bed. Once at my desk i fall to my knees. My mind is at home, back in high school, does that girl still care about me? Multiple off topic things dance across my minds stage. I try to gather my thoughts to my purpose in being on my knees. That is to find through all the heavy wave lengths going on my Heavenly Father. Asking him for help and guidance as I am about to embark yet again on  trek. 

Its a trek with an unkept trail, without a finish line, it could have many beautiful land marks to stop and enjoy or it could be a constant steady course. I conclude our conversation and take my seat at the desk. As I begin to open my Book of Mormon I feel the journey beginning. I don’t know where I will be taken. I read with spiritual eyes and a desire to learn and grow. 

This is my wilderness every day for 1 hour. Its me and God, our time to have an interview, for me to be taught by the master. Often times I am lost in the wilderness of scripture and pondering. I have found my sacred grove each time I kneel at that desk, that I open my scriptures and let God come to me and endow me with the power and knowledge I desperately need that day. 

Best Lesson Is a Conversation

“Of Souls, Symbols, and Sacraments” A speech given by now Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in 1988, then acting as President of Brigham Young University,  is a plea and cry for to students to find it within themselves to stay pure in all forms of sexuality. Elder Holland is known for his eloquence and vibrant ability to show an increase in love towards you as he lovingly rebukes and belittles you for the sins that grasp us each day. 

He brings the essence of a great coach that as he has mentioned before in conference talks is to get in your face a little and singe your eyebrows. Yet at the same time showing a sense of faith in us that we can overcome our daily struggles and short comings. 

Elder Holland makes it a point in this speech to teach us the “why” behind being sexually pure and not the specific dos and don’ts  of church doctrine. He presents through his speaking a personal desire within each of us to be better. He acknowledges the fact that we are human beings and we fall short. He expresses his understanding of where we may be currently in regards to his current subject matter.  

His ability to allow you to feel as if he is speaking to you directly is truly an art and gift. As if you were sitting face to face with him in a personal interview. Scared out of your mind because of the intensity and passion he posses, and knowing that its all because he sincerely wants you to be successful. Some how and someway he finds a way to have a conversation with you. Its far from the feeling of being lectured to. Rather he involves you into feeling that you are apart of something bigger. 

Elder Holland may appear to be speaking and giving a lecture, but he has master the ability to do so and simultaneously help us feel we are apart of a great conversation.