Monday, December 12, 2011

Love Unconquerable, Unlimited, Unconditional

This Christmas season, I have decided to start a new tradition for myself: I've been getting reacquainted with Christ by studying the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. My dear friends, Jesus Christ lives! He is our Savior, our older brother, and our perfect exemplar. I can't tell you what an amazing experience I have had spending time with Him in my study--hearing His words, and seeing His example, and feeling His love.

I always liked to compare Christ's role in our lives to my brother's playing basketball in the driveway with his friends. I would sit on the step and watch them, wanting to be able to play and knowing that I was just too little to do it on my own. But eventually, Mark would come over and lift me up on his shoulders and walk over to the hoop, and one of his friends would hand me the ball, and they would all cheer when I tossed the ball into the hoop. That image has become so much more real since I lost Mark, and even though this isn't exactly what the Atonement of Christ does (it's only a small part), I know that Christ is my older brother--that I can be as close to Him as I am to Mark. I can grieve for Him, and miss Him, and want to be with Him, just like I do Mark.

And I do. The other night, I was reading in Mark 14, when Christ takes Peter, James, and John to Gethsemane. Most often, I skim over this part in these first gospels, until I get to Luke, because Luke uses such beautiful and powerful language. But as I studied these verses, my heart broke for my Savior:

"And he taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy;

And saith unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death: tarry ye here, and watch.

And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.

And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt.

And he cometh, and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, sleepest thou? couldest not thou watch one hour?" (Mark 14:33-37).

Three times, The Savior of the world knelt in agony, alone, and each time He came to His friends, whom He had brought with Him for support, He found them sleeping. Even after all they had experience with Him, they did not understand; they couldn't even stay awake as He suffered for the sins of the world. And at last, when the time came to fulfill the rest of the Atonement, He said, "Sleep on now, and take your rest" (Mark 14:41).

What great love! To suffer so much, alone, knowing that so many would not understand, that so many would reject and dismiss the priceless gift that He gave.

And so, this Christmas, I make a commitment to you and to my Savior, Jesus Christ:

I will strive to love as He did--withholding nothing, and asking for nothing in return.

I will strive to live my life as He did--in the service of my fellow man.

I will strive to forgive as He did--frankly and without condition.

But most of all, I will remember always what He gave for me, and stand as His witness in all things, in all times, and in all places.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

23 Life Lessons Learned at the Cinema! Because I spend way too much time watching these movies ... But they're just so good!

1. "It's like in the great stories, .... The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think ... I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something[:] ... [t]hat there's some good left in this world, ... and it's worth fighting for!"

2. "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

3. "[He] can't carry it for you; but [He] can carry you!"

4. "Keep breathing. That's the key. Breathe."

5. "You pile up enough tomorrows and you'll be left with nothing but a bunch of empty yesterdays."

6. "You're life is an occasion. Rise to it!"

7. "We must face tomorrow, whatever it may hold, with determination, joy and bravery."

8. "We Breathe. We Pulse. We Regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. Thirty-seven seconds, well used, is a lifetime."

9. "When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does."

10. "[D]aisies are the friendliest flower[.]"

11. "Life doesn't always turn out the way you plan."

12. "A person's a person, no matter how small."

13. "There may be something there that wasn't there before."

14. "[A]ny fool can have courage. But honor, that's the real reason for you either do something or you don't. It's who you are and maybe who you want to be. If you die trying for something important, then you have both honor and courage, and that's pretty good."

15. "Love is not a feeling. It's an ability. "

16. "Instead of telling our young people to plan ahead, we should tell them to plan to be surprised."

17. "I thank whatever gods may be / For my unconquerable soul. / I am the master of my fate / I am the captain of my soul."

18. "Forgiveness liberates the soul."

19. "How do we inspire ourselves to greatness when nothing less will do? How do we inspire everyone around us? I sometimes think it is by using the work of others."

20. "Tomorrow's taken care of, one way or another."

21. "Fifty thousand men died right here on this field, fighting the same fight that we are still fighting among ourselves today. This green field right here, painted red, bubblin' with the blood of young boys. Smoke and hot lead pouring right through their bodies. Listen to their souls, men. I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family. You listen, and you take a lesson from the dead. If we don't come together right now on this hallowed ground, we too will be destroyed, just like they were. I don't care if you like each other of not, but you will respect each other."

22. "[I]n such cases as these a good memory is unpardonable."

23. "What are men compared to rocks and mountains?"

Monday, July 4, 2011

"Lightbulbs die, My Sweet. I will depart."

"When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written 'He dies.' That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is, 'He dies.' It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with 'He dies.' And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words 'He dies,' but because of the life we saw prior to the words.
. . .
"I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest 'He died.'" -- Mr. Magorium

I lost my brother about four days ago. He died in his sleep at the age of 34. His wife, Brooke, and their five beautiful children were in Utah visiting Brooke's family. I keep thinking that he's going to walk into the room and tell us all to quit the waterworks and go do something fun. I remember when I left to come down to BYU for the first time and I was making the rounds, getting teary-eyed. When I got to Mark, he laughed at me and said, "Are you done with your girl moment? Can I hug you now?"

Well, Mark, you're going to have to let me go through a few more girl moments, because I'm just not ready to say goodbye yet.

Remember that rocking horse you and Dad made for me when I was born? It's in the garage in Vernonia now. I remember writing a couple stories and essays about that horse. I always bragged to my friends that my big brother made it for me. You spoiled me, you know, you and Dad. You're both so good at everything, it makes it hard for a girl to find someone to fit the bill.

You were always looking out for me, you and your friends. I was the annoying little girl that wouldn't leave you alone. I remember sitting out on the steps when you were playing basketball and watching you. And then, eventually, you'd come over and put me on your shoulders and walk over the the hoop, and one of the guys would hand me the ball. Hehe,I remember when Big Brian let me steer your truck to David's while I was sitting on his knee.

I would get so mad at you back then! You were always holding my head with one hand and telling me to hit you, or pretending I was a typewriter, or flat-out wrestling me to the ground. And then there was the never-ending knuckle-popping! I wanted to scream! (I often did). You always had the same excuse: "It's for her own good; she's got to learn to defend herself. She's got to fight off all those boys." (Still waiting for that to happen, Mark).

But as much as I protested against you for that, I was always bragging about you to my friends. You were my hero. You were so strong and confident in everything you did. Whenever I pictured Nephi, this teenage prophet who was "large in stature" and completely stalwart in his faith, I pictured you.

Mom likes to tell the story of when you got your appendix removed. There was a game the next weekend and a bunch of your football friends showed up at the hospital with balloons and things. You convinced the doctor to let you play. Mom was so mad! She went out and got depends and made you wear them as extra padding on your side while you played. But you still went. You played, and you won the game.

And then you went on your mission. I still tell people that my claim to fame is the tape you sent from the MTC to play at my baptism. You gave a talk, remember, and a bunch of your buddies joined you in singing a song. And one of those buddies later became part of Jericho Road. I was always knew that my big brother would be there for me, even if he couldn't be physically present. I still know that you'll be there for me now.

I remember the night before we met you to say goodbye at the airport (back when you could do that), when it finally registered in my mind that I wasn't going to be able to see or talk to you for two whole years. I don't know if I ever told you, but I cried myself to sleep that night.

And I was so mad when you got home and ran off to get married right away, because I had finally started to like you. And then you were gone again.

But over the years, as I grew up, I talked to you more and more. And you went from being my bully big brother and my hero to being one of my best friends. And I would still get frustrated with you sometimes, because you always had to be right. I called it your "lawyer voice," that tone that you put on when you expected me to disagree with you and you were determined to show me that you were right. The most frustrating part about it was that you were right a lot of the time -- not all of the time, mind you, but a lot of the time.

You were always looking out for me, pushing me to be better without letting me think less of myself. And you always had good advice. I keep wanting to pick up the phone and talk to you, because I know you'd be able to tell me what to do.

I'm so glad that you called me on Wednesday, before you left us. I'm sure you had no idea how important that phone call would be, but I'm also sure that you were led by the Spirit to know what to say. I remember being concerned because you sounded so tired, but I didn't say anything because you had already started threatening boys again, and delivering the lecture that you meant for them. But then it changed. You started talking about trusting in the Lord and what it means to love someone. You said part of trusting the Lord is being willing to do the work, and make difficult decisions by yourself, and take a step into the dark. You said that marriage is part of that same trust -- that loving someone is as simple as wanting to make them happy, but that you have to be willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.

You told me about your relationship with Brooke, and how you learned that this was true. You talked about how much she hates it when you leave your socks on the floor, and about how you had an epiphone about six months ago that you could make your wife happier each day by picking up your socks. So, you made an effort to start picking up your socks every day. At this point, you apologized for rambling and called this a stupid example, and then said something about how it's the little things like that that make the difference.

And then you said that you were proud of me, and that I would find somebody that would do whatever it took to make me happy, someone I would do whatever it took to make happy, as well.

People keep saying how much you loved me, and how proud you were of me. And I knew it; I always heard it in your voice. I still feel it. When my home teachers came to give me a blessing after I heard the news, they said that Heavenly Father wanted me to know that you love me and that you're okay. I do know it. I hope you know that I love and miss you so much, and that I will always be proud that you are my big brother. I thank my Heavenly Father that I was blessed to have you in my life; I thank my Savior, Jesus Christ for making it possible for me to be your baby sister for Eternity. I hope and pray that I can live up to it.

All my love,

Debra