Little Toy Cars

Imagine that you have this little toy car (I played with cars as a kid, okay?). It's the prettiest, most wonderful toy car you've ever seen. The exterior design is perfect, the wheels never snag or stick, and you can run it the whole length of your bedroom and back and it's unbelievably easy to imagine yourself as the best racecar driver in the world. You spend hours playing with this perfect toy car. You take it with you wherever you go and show it off to all of your friends.

Then one day, your dad asks you to give him your toy car. Like, for keeps. "But why, Dad? This is my very favorite car. Here, how about I give you this other one instead?" But your dad insists. It has to be your toy car. Your very favorite one. He is firm but gentle in his request and finally you relent and place it in his outstretched hand. He deftly tucks it away and you feel a piece of your heart shatter. You loved that car so much that you can't imagine how you're going to have fun without it. While tears fill your eyes, your dad turns and pulls out something new: A bike.

Not only is the bike much bigger and nicer than your toy car, but it will take you places. You don't have to pretend you're a racecar driver anymore; you can race around on your bike for real. Suddenly your world just got so much larger. You can go farther and get there faster with your bike than you ever could take your toy car. You don't have to ask Mom for a ride to your friend's house. Now you can get there yourself.

Pretty soon, however, your dad comes back to you and asks you to give him your bike. You feel upset. He gave you that bike. Why on earth is he wanting to take it back now? But your dad is so kind and gentle and loving that you do it anyway. And he gives you the keys to your very own motorcycle.

With all that horsepower, you can carry yourself and a substantial amount of weight across incredible distances at incredible speeds. Your world just expanded again.

And so it goes on. Eventually, your dad asks for the return of the motorcycle and gives you a car that allows you to carry yourself, other people, and all of the baggage you all carry with you all over the continent. The world is yours, and now you get to bring other people along with you (and we all know road trips are more fun with other people).

So where am I going with this?

Based on experiences in my own life, and because of things my younger siblings are dealing with, I've been thinking a lot about how the Lord often asks us to trust Him and give up something that we love, and what happens when we do.

Have you ever tried to get a kid to give up his favorite toy long enough for you to give him something new? When they're young, they only really understand what's in front of them, and they don't realize that you're about to give them something better, so giving that toy up is the end of their happiness, at least from their perspective. Our first loves, the things and people that make us feel as though the world will end if we give them up, those are our little toy cars. They are amazing, and they help us imagine great things and chase big dreams. But they may not be able to carry us very far in life. So the Lord asks us to trust Him enough to let Him give us something that will increase our ability to progress.

As time goes on and this process repeats, with the vehicle getting better each time, we begin to see the bigger picture. We begin to understand that He's asking it back each time for a good reason. Something better is in store. And so, each time He asks, we give the vehicle back a little more willingly, having learned from experience that the Lord never downgrades us to something less than we've given up. Eventually, we may end up with a fleet of jets at our disposal, carrying hundreds and thousands of other lives closer to our Father. But before we can get there, WE HAVE TO GIVE UP THE TOY CAR.

Now, I recognize that this is not a perfect metaphor for all aspects of life. But I think it does apply beautifully to the principle of sacrifice as I've come to understand it. Whether I've given up a relationship, a job opportunity, or some other goal or dream because the Lord has guided me down a path that didn't allow for that particular thing, I've come to realize that I always end up with something better than what I've given up and that I've come further in life than I might have otherwise. A bike can carry you across the country if you're patient and smart, but a car will do it much faster with a much heavier load, and a jet even more so. If you cling to your "bike," you'll get to the same place eventually, but it may take longer (and you run a greater risk of giving up out of fatigue before getting there), and you may not be able to touch as many other lives and bring them along with you.When we put our lives in the Lord's hands, I completely believe that He increases our capacity to bear burdens and help others and speeds up our own progress at the same time.

I can't begin to count the number of times this has happened to me. When I was 12, my family moved away, taking me away from my two best friends (one of whom I had a crush on). I honestly thought my world was ending and that I'd never find friends as good as the ones I'd left behind. But then, when I was 14, I met the girl who would eventually become as close to me as my own sister and who, now, 12 years later, is still a person I can count on to love me no matter what. When I graduated from college and finished my internship with the Ensign, I wanted nothing in the world more than to work for the Church for the rest of my life. "What could be better?" I asked myself. It was definitely a worthy goal, and a very clear way to use my professional skills to build the Lord's kingdom. But after a long stretch of contract work, every opportunity for full-time work for the Church closed in my face. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get a job in the one place I thought I wanted to be. Then my current job came along. Among the many perks and blessings that this job has given me, one of the coolest is that I have the freedom to transfer among any of the 90+ offices in the country or work from home: my world just got a lot bigger. I can go anywhere with a lot more freedom now because I can take my job (and all of those other perks and benefits!) with me wherever I go.

It can be so hard to give up something that we love (whether it's a relationship, a job, a home, a hobby, or any other dream or passion). The heartbreak we suffer when we do is so very real. And sometimes, when the Lord asks us to give up something that He gave us and pushed us toward in the first place, the feelings of heartbreak and betrayal can be devastating. But He always does it with a good reason. I'm young, yes, but it has happened enough in my own life that I know that it's true.

So, as you face course changes, redirected paths, and surrendered dreams, have courage. Your Heavenly Father will never make you suffer needlessly. Inside every painful sacrifice is the seed of your own success and ultimate happiness.

The Lord's Territory: True Freedom

I know, I know. It's been a long time. I got caught up in life and didn't slow down enough to come back to my blog. I wanted to share this video, though.


I love how personal and applicable Elder Bednar's lesson is. He illustrated so clearly how sins of omission not only halt progress, but cause backsliding. If we're not consciously choosing the Lord, we don't progress.

One of the most beautiful things that I noticed about his object lesson was something that he didn't call attention to, but I've found that it's very true in life: progress within the Lord's territory is unrestricted. We are free to move backward and forward as much as we'd like. We can move to the side, take a meandering course, whatever we choose.

Movement on Satan's side is pretty free too. Elder Bednar would not have stopped the boy from wandering around deeper in, but returning to the rug required great struggle, only possible if the boy could overpower him. Which he could have. The right leverage, the right coaching, and he could have regained the freedom to return to the rug. That's how the Atonement works. It gives us the added strength and knowledge to overcome the sins that hold us back.

Anyway, I just wanted to share. :)

In other news, I am happy and content. I've been at my job for almost six months now and have only had one horrible day so far (which, thankfully, had nothing to do with my office or my team -- just a snarly document that I was so tempted to destroy with fire). I actually got into a conversation last night about career versus motherhood, because a friend of mine, when I asked her what she was going to do with her master's degree, mentioned that she'd rather be a mom and that she didn't really want a career.

I used to feel that way.

Don't get me wrong, I still want to be a mother. But I don't resent the fact that I have a career, either. I'm enjoying it a lot, and will probably keep a toe in it when I do become a mom. I'm so looking forward to that.

In the meantime, I'm enjoying the freedom of wandering around in the Lord's territory. I'm putting that freedom to the test, sidestepping, slipping, sidetracking, coming back and going in deeper. But here's the thing about all of that: it's still the Lord's territory. Despite my weaknesses that may cause me to lose ground or slip back a little closer to the line, I'm still on His side, and there are blessings built into that that can't be taken away. Personal revelation comes when I ask. Inspiration is available even when I don't. The Spirit whispers encouragement. I am immediately and overwhelmingly blessed the second I stop sliding and take a step further in.

But don't ever forget that all the help of heaven is available to get lost souls back to the Lord's side.

My Choice

I'm sorry it's been a long time since I've posted. Life has been wonderful, full to the brim with amazing things. I'll go into those at some other time.

I've been sitting on the thoughts I'm about to share for a long time now, and I've been trying to figure out how to share them. I hope that I can do them justice.

Pretty much everyone who reads my blog knows what church I belong to. You know what I believe. I couldn't hide it if I tried. The gospel of Jesus Christ is so much a part of me that it leaks out even when I might be trying to be discreet (which, to be honest, we shouldn't ever try to be discreet about what we believe). I love this gospel, and I've chosen it with my whole heart. I've chosen to belong to the Lord. Perhaps not in the typical "bride of God" sense, because I still plan to give my heart and my soul to my husband someday (when I find him). But I am God's. Without question, without reservation.

I have noticed a disturbing trend among people today, whether they are friends, acquaintances, family, or total strangers. Many of them want to pick and choose among the doctrines of the gospel. Certain teachings anger, frustrate, or infuriate them. They fight against such teachings with remarkable persuasive ability. I am not condemning or passing judgment on these people. They are allowed to express their beliefs. I don't know their situations, or what makes it hard for them to accept some doctrines and not others.

But I am allowed to express my beliefs too. And I'm going to.

For me, there is no picking and choosing from the doctrines of the gospel. There is no picking and choosing which conference talks are doctrine and which aren't. God does not need to be corrected. His servants - the prophets, apostles, and general authorities of the Church - do not need to be corrected. They are not wrong. Yes, they are men, and they aren't perfect. I worked for the Church. Believe me, I know it for a fact. They have their opinions and political views and personal viewpoints just as much as any of us do. But they are also called of God, and when they speak to us as such, they are speaking on His behalf. That means general conference. That means letters from the First Presidency. That means articles written by them in the Church magazines. They sign their names to those documents and addresses as "President" or "Elder" for a reason.

Now, I want to be very clear about my thoughts on this. I'm not saying that I blindly follow everything that they say or ask us to do. I have had my doubts. I've struggled with some of the doctrines of the gospel. I have wrestled over conflicting opinions on the same difficult subjects that weigh so heavily on many others. I still am not entirely settled on where my own opinions on many such topics fall.

Not everything they say applies to me specifically. I am not married. I'm not a parent. I'm not a man. I did not leave some other religion to join this one. I am not a prospective or returned full-time missionary (okay, yes, in the sense that I plan to serve someday with my husband, 40 to 50 years down the road, yes, I am). There are lot of things they talk about that I am not. But there are also many things that ALL of them talk about that I am. I am human. I am a woman. I am single. I am young. I am afraid. I am going through trials that test my faith. I have wavered in that faith. I have had my testimony shaken. I have made mistakes. I have needed the Atonement. I am often doubtful or uncertain. I am a daughter. I am a friend. I am a child of God. I am His disciple.

I believe that complaining about what the general authorities teach when they talked about women who are married and having children just because you are single, divorced, barren, or too busy with a career (I'm using feminine examples here, because I understand them better, but masculine things apply just as well) is selfish. Is that harsh? Perhaps. But it suggests a blinded approach to the doctrines of the gospel. Lessons of patience addressed to mothers (or fathers) of young children are still universal. We all need patience. A talk about teaching children can inspire us to teach ourselves or those around us. A lesson to a child about obeying his or her parents can help us learn to obey the Lord, our parents, our spouses, even our bosses at work. A lesson about missionary work can inspire us to convert ourselves. Talking about financial stability can help us to spread the principles of budgeting and "saying no" to frivolous wants to our spiritual lives, learning to say no to things that we don't really need. Saying that those lessons don't apply because we are not specifically mentioned by the categories we place ourselves in is effectively slamming the door in the Lord's face and saying, "Unless you talk to me on my terms, I'm not going to listen." That is selfish and arrogant when we consider who we're talking to.

It all applies to us. I'm convinced of that. Sure, I may not be addicted to pornography, so I may not need every word that's spoken about it, but I know people who are who may need my help. Or, the discussion of the effects of pornography on a marriage may help me to be careful about not letting anything (sexual or not) become more important than my husband. If something isn't obviously applicable, dig a little deeper. There's something in there that does apply. That's how the gospel works.

Now, I'm not pronouncing any kind of fate on people who question the teachings of the prophets or express their concerns and/or disagreements. In fact, I thank them. We are supposed to question. We are supposed to ask. If I never heard or read conflicting viewpoints, I wouldn't be certain of what it is I have chosen to believe. But I'm not going to say that I agree with you if you disagree with what they teach. I'm not going to pretend that it doesn't bother me just as much as my supposed blind obedience bothers you. I am not okay with people who say that the apostles are blind, closed-minded, backwards old men. That's not okay with me, and here's why.

I chose them. I chose them as my authority. I chose the God that they serve. I am an intelligent woman. I have studied philosophy, psychology, science, and theology. I understand rhetoric and logic. I rely on it, in fact. This was no blind choice that I have made. I have read countless dissenting opinions on pretty much every doctrine or belief that I hold dear. I have weighed their words, considered their opinions, and taken time to discuss things with others, both in and out of my own religion. And I have still chosen them.

What God would want blind obedience? Doesn't that defeat the purpose? Blindly obeying everything someone tells you to do turns you into whatever it is that they want you to be. You become a reflection of them. You become their slave, with no will or decision-making power of your own. That's not the desire of the God I have chosen to follow. He wants thinking, intelligent, rational people to work on His behalf. He wants us to ask questions, to give voice to our fears and doubts. He wants us to struggle through internal conflict, because only then do we discover who we are and what we're capable of. Only then can He make us into more than we were before.

How do I know this? Because I live it every day. I have been afraid. I have been confused. I have even been angry at the Lord. I have certainly not agreed with everything I've been asked to do. In many such cases, my pride was hurt, I was embarrassed, or I felt I was right. But in every single instance, submitting my will to the Lord's has made me into more, not less. I have achieved more than I had ever originally planned for myself. I have become a better person than I thought I could be. I have learned more things than I knew my brain could hold.

I like who I am. I don't want to be any different than I am right now, except to keep becoming better, because I know I'm not done yet. If you could become the best person in the world at something, if you knew you could do it, would you quit halfway? Perhaps that helps you understand my choice. I'm not necessarily trying to become the best writer or artist or thinker in the world. But I am trying to become the best version of myself that I can become. I'll be the best Lynnae in the world (other Lynnaes in the world, you can be the best, too, but you won't be me. You'll be you).

What I'm trying to say is that this is my choice. This is my life. This is who I am. I have chosen to follow my Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ. I have chosen to follow the prophets, both past and present. I will not yield on this point. Ever. I decided almost ten years ago now that I would never give up on the teachings of this Church, no matter what got thrown my way. I might question, wonder, worry, fume, and cry about it, but I would always act on the gospel principles first. If they failed me, then I would know that it was wrong. But I would never assume that they were wrong before I tried them out. I would act in faith.

And guess what? The teachings of this church have never failed me. I have never once regretted choosing them over something a disagreeing opinion says is okay, but I have regretted choosing the disagreeing opinion over the principles of the gospel. That is enough empirical evidence to make me certain of my choice.

I love you all. I hope that you find similar certainty in our crazy, messed up world. I don't even mind if you find certainty in an opinion that opposes mine. Whatever you choose, stick to it. If it gives you peace, stick to it. Even the world, for all of its problems, rewards the people to stick to their guns far more than those who waffle about and change their minds with every opinion that comes their way. I have made my choice, and I'm sticking to it, no matter what. I hope you all find something that you can do the same with.

(I'll get back to my normal writing soon, I promise. Thanks for reading.)

Gee Whiz Files: Elevate Your Thoughts

I thought maybe I should start these Gee Whiz Files things up again. After all, I'm still working for the Church, it's still interesting, and I'm always correcting people's misconceptions about what it's like. Not that that's the only reason for Gee Whiz Files. Sometimes they're just fun, too.

Other times, like this one, they are perfectly timed and wonderfully applicable to the rest of my life. So, the Church Office Building elevators that I talked about forever ago? Yeah, those. Well, all of them have these little plaques that contain snippets from general conference talks. They call them "Elevate Your Thoughts" (Elevator Thoughts, get it?). I've always liked them. They're nice. It gives you something to read instead of having to make awkward eye contact when you're jammed in with 18 other people for 20+ floors. But I've also largely ignored them in the sense that I'll stare at them every day and still never be able to tell you what they actually say. 

Well, I got in the elevator today, and I just so happened to be in the one that had this quote, and it seemed beautifully fitting, considering the point of my last post. So I took a picture of it. I apologize that it's blurry. The elevator jolted to a stop and then some lady got in and stood between me and the plaque, so I had to work with what I got. 

It's beautiful and perfect nonetheless.

Just remember: sometimes, it's okay to feel like you're barely holding on for dear life. You don't have to be excelling in the gospel to be making progress.

Try and Try Again

Okay, I'm going to get real with you, here. Not that that is some huge deal, because I do it fairly often. I find it cleansing, even if it gets a little painful. But I'm up for some good catharsis if you are.

Sometimes, hope sucks. And dating definitely sucks. Not 100% of the time, but more than most of us would prefer.

Now, I've been pretty happy over the last several months. I've been chugging along, spending time with family and friends, saving money for big things (car, bed, furniture, tv, tablet, and maybe even travel plans, though the last one is only the tiniest of pipe dreams at the moment), diving back into large stacks of good books, deepening my devotion to the Lord, and rediscovering how much I just love everything about my life. 

My dating life was A-OK, pretty much because I didn't have one, and that was totally cool. Being crush-free is a delightful state, I'll be honest. My happiness didn't hinge on whether Mr. Brown-eyes (or blue, if you prefer) talked to me that day or not. I was happy all on my own. 

Then, suddenly, I fell in like. Not love. That's too strong. I was in like. 

There were a couple of guys. One that I was inclined to choose, and one who chose me. For the first time in my life, I actually wasn't sure which one I should actually decide to be interested in. Well, my choice was made for me. Guy A went for someone else; she was one of those girls that you totally adore because she's an angel, inside and out... and all the guys like her too. You can't hate her, because she's the nicest person you've ever met, but it still rips your heart out because every guy you know forgets you're there when she walks in the room. 

"Well, that's fine," I told myself. I've been through that routine before. 

I'd actually never met Guy B. He was a mutual friend. But we started to talk, and he was incredibly enjoyable to talk to. 

Cool. Maybe I can actually do this dating thing. 

However, this whole time, there was this insidious little voice at the back of my head that kept ticking off all the names of every One-Hit Wonder I've had in the last three years. Hey Lynnae, remember So-and-So? You really liked him, too, but he never asked you on that second date. Oh, and That Guy, he seemed interested, but he forgot about you, too. And let's not bring up Mr. Smalls, who actually ran away. Ever notice how you don't really get a chance to even try and see if something might be worth the risk?

But this is different. This time had to be different. I do deserve to be happy. Eventually, all the cards fall into place and it works out.

But not for you. Never for you. You just keep getting tortured, remember? It's like someone sets your favorite cake in front of you, but right as you go to take a bite, it gets yanked away and given to someone else. You can't take this anymore. It just might shatter you this time, right?

Shut up. It's going fine. Look, he wants to bring me flowers. And see that? He just told me I was beautiful. That's pretty awesome.

You'd better hope it's going fine. Because it's going to destroy you to be given up on again. Heartbreak's easier---at least then you feel validated for a little while. But if you don't get a chance with this one, you must be broken. Something must be wrong. You can't take another false-start relationship.

That whispering voice sounds familiar, doesn't it? That's because it's something we all hear. Maybe not about dating, but there's always something that challenges our conception of self-worth. And it always chimes in right about the time we start believing that we deserve to be happy. 

That's what happened for me. I managed to shut it up for a long while because it seemed like things really would be different. For once, I wasn't the one initiating. In fact, it occasionally felt like I was dragging my feet more than he was. 

But then, things out of either his control or mine happened. Plans got postponed. External pressure and stress was placed on him, and he started pulling away. Just like all the others. 

And I shattered. I mean, really shattered. 

It didn't matter that Guy B and I had never met, or that I didn't really know anything about him. We could have ended up having the worst date ever for all I knew. All I saw was that there was someone that could have been important, and everything was falling apart before it even started. Again. 

I got so frustrated. I got angry. I felt like I was being cheated. I'm a big girl. I can take it. I can handle heartbreak. I understand that relationships often don't work out. He might not end up interested in me, or I might not be all that interested in him. That's cool. That's how it goes. But DANG IT, I wanted to try. I wanted to take the risk, go for broke, and see if it was worth it. If it fell apart, at least I would know I'd given it my all. That's all I've ever wanted. 

But time and time again, I kept having the chance to try stolen away from me, like a precocious toddler who keeps getting pushed back from an interesting chemistry experiment by an impatient parent. "Stop that. You're too young. You'll hurt yourself. You can't play with that. That's for someone who's older."

It broke my heart. I think I cried harder over this than I did the last time I went through a breakup. Why was I allowed to get my hopes up if they would get yanked away before I'd even gotten a real taste? 

Okay, I'm going to digress for the tiniest second right here and make a seemingly unrelated confession: I've watched The Vampire Diaries. I'm not really that proud of it. In my opinion, it's only a few steps above Twilight as far as quality storytelling goes. But there's something that the show emphasizes about its vampires that will be relevant to my story: vampires can turn off their human emotions. Completely. They just switch it off, and they can't feel love, pain, guilt, sorrow, or compassion anymore. 

Got it? Well, that's what I wanted to do. I'd liked not being interested in anybody. It was easy. I just wanted to turn off the part of me that falls in love with people and never worry about it again. 

And the part that hurt the most was the certainty---accompanied by fear---that I never ever would be able to. I knew it. Sooner or later, someone else would come along, and no matter how hard I would try, I wouldn't be able resist getting my hopes up again. I will never be able to not do that. And I was equally certain that this cycle of losing out before I even got to try would also never end. 

I was even a little bit mad at the Lord for it. Did He enjoy seeing me grasping at empty air as each of the dozen or so Possibilities slipped away over the last few years? What was the point of hoping if this was all I was ever going to get for it?

I'm not proud of those thoughts. But I need you to know that I had them. I think we all have them at one point or another.

As I sat there, drowning in my own fear and frustration, I felt one of the worst things I've ever felt in my life. I realized that I'd drawn myself a line that I wasn't willing to let the Lord help me cross. Without even knowing it, I'd given Him an ultimatum and staked my faith on it. I wasn't willing to face this kind of circumstance even one more time, let alone possibly for the rest of my life. 

And as my sweet father asked me (yes, I was on the phone with him at the time---when am I not talking to my parents during these moments?) if I could face being alone like this for the rest of my life and still trust the Lord, I genuinely hesitated. In fact, I almost wanted to say, "No. I give up. I'm throwing in the towel."

That horrified me. For one tiny moment, I was staring into the awful blackness of who Lynnae would be if she didn't trust the Lord. It's the worst thing I've ever felt in my entire life. I will take a hundred heartbreaks, a million One-Hit Wonders or WorstDateEvers rather than ever have to feel like that again. 

It seems like such a trivial thing to have a crisis of faith over. People have stared death and devastating loss in the face without flinching, and I was breaking into pieces over dating of all things. 

But I learned something from it. And maybe others have gone through similar moments, which is why they face much greater trials without shrinking.

I learned that I could be pushed to the very edge of my own limits and still be okay, because the Lord, the one I had been angry at, had almost considered turning my back on, loved me still. His arms reached out and steadied me even as I pounded at Him furiously. 

Because that's how the Lord is. No matter how often we refuse His help and deny His offers to heal us, He still reaches out. Our happiness matters more than anything He receives from us in return. How can I expect to do any less if I want to become like Him?

My favorite quote about love comes from a philosophy book I was reading a couple of years ago:

"Love requires self-sacrifice, binds one's happiness to the good of another, makes one vulnerable to loss and grief, and strengthens one's commitment to the good."

I may not have found the kind of love that leads to marriage and family, but I've loved deeply enough to know that it is always worth it. All of those "missed" chances at love for me, well, maybe they're happy. I hope so. Because maybe at least some of them felt the same way. Maybe they were tired of dating and not finding the right person, too. But they had the courage to take a chance on me, even if it didn't go anywhere. Hopefully they've found women that they can build lives with. 

This wasn't Guy B's fault. If it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else. I was breaking long before Guy A or Guy B came around. I even still like Guy B, and that door isn't actually closed all the way, though I'm focusing my energy on friends and family who need me more right now. 

If anything, I owe Guy B, Guy A, and every other One-Hit Wonder or Almost-One-Hit Wonder (and even the WorstDateEvers) that I've ever met the most heartfelt thanks for being the kind of men that would make me want to try again and again, no matter what the risks are. It means that they are all exceptional, and well worth taking risks for. :)

I'm sorry for the long post. But I needed to share. People often commend me on my testimony and my faith. I'm grateful for such commendations. But I also know that many people struggle with their faith. It is to those people that I dedicate this post. I've been there. Our trials and circumstances may be different, but they all hurt the same. 

I love you all. The Lord loves you all. And unlike me, He will never falter or waver for even the smallest reason. Unlike me, He can lift you past your biggest chasms and help you break through your thickest walls. But I will always try.

Mountain Trails

She had been climbing this mountain for as long as she could remember. It was the ultimate goal, the ultimate test. Everyone who was anyone pitted themselves against this mountain in order to win the breathtaking achievement of seeing the whole world from the top.

It was the undertaking of a lifetime. Everything she could remember had happened on this mountain. She saw no other future than continued climbing.

But the mountain was tricky. It was so vast that millions of trails wound up its face, and thousands of little canyons cut across its slope.

One day, she found herself in one of those canyons. Her feet were aching, her body hurt, and suddenly, her path turned into a gentle downhill slope, and she slowed in confusion. She was supposed to be going up. Not down. This wasn't right. She had just finished a full-fledged sprint up a steep slope to one of the mountain's promontories, powered by the chance to get a glimpse of the view that surely spread out from her elevation. It had been worth it. The vista was incredible. She had indeed climbed far. The world spread around her like the view from a skyscraper.

Then the trail dipped back into the trees, obscuring her clear view of how far she'd come. And now this downward thing. She must have taken a wrong turn.

The sound of footsteps. A friend whose trail often intersected with hers came running toward her, grinned in greeting, and dashed off, weaving on an upward trail that had her gaining elevation fast.

The hiker felt her spirits plummet. That's the kind of trail she should be on. She looked ahead at her mostly-level, slightly downhill path and down at her legs that shook and ached with strain as she continued moving forward on them. Then she gritted her teeth and picked up her pace. She couldn't give up. She wouldn't. She turned onto her friend's trail and began to climb, though she was a long way from being able to run up the slope as her friend had.

Suddenly, someone stepped in front of her, blocking her way. Her eyes traveled from his feet to his face, and she recognized him. The Mountain Guide. He was the stuff of legend and myth among every hiker that tackled this mountain. The only man who had scaled it more than once. In fact, it was often said that he had scaled it so often that he knew every trail to the top. Every. Single. One. He put his hands out and gripped her upper arms. "Stop. Stop. What are you doing?"

She had been moving under sheer willpower, her muscles responding mechanically. Now that she wasn't moving, her muscles tightened painfully, crippling her. She sagged, but the Guide caught her and swept her into his arms, carrying her back to her trail. He set her down on a boulder and crouched in front of her.

Tears of discouragement filled her eyes. "Can't stop," she whispered, "I have to keep going up."

His hands massaged along her seized-up calf muscles with medical familiarity until he found the spot he was looking for. Without warning, he applied tremendous pressure to the knot in her muscles, and she cried out. "You have to," he replied. "It's not stopping if you take a rest, assess your abilities, and replenish your energy." He found another knot, making her gasp in pain again. "It also helps to work out kinks like these that are slowing you down. You can't do that on the run."

"But the trail," she mumbled through the pain, unable to say more.

The Guide understood her unspoken question. "Yes, it does level out. You may not gain elevation for a while, but it will go up again." He reached up and brushed the tears from her cheeks, looking at her with piercing eyes that seemed to see into the deepest part of her soul. "I choose the trails for every hiker, did you know that?"

She shook her head.

"I have climbed this mountain so many times that I know which hikers need which trails. I know what you can do. So I put you on this one. You'll get to the top if you stay on it." He pulled her to her feet, and she found that she could stand. Hesitantly, she took a few steps, and though her legs still shook, she found she could walk. The Guide took her hand and looped it through his arm, letting her lean on him a little. He set a pace that was comfortable for her. Much slower than her normal pace, but one that wouldn't wear her out again.

They made steady progress along the flat ground, and she felt her confidence start to return. She could do this. It may be slow going for a while, but she could do this.

Almost as if he could sense her thoughts, the Guide slipped her arm from his. "Someone else needs me, but I won't be far. Call if you need me, again." He stepped right into the trees, following a trail that only he could see. Just before he went out of sight, he stopped and looked back at her. "Keep going, child. Even slow progress is progress on a mountain like this. And I will always send help."

He slipped away, but it didn't seem like he was very far. She knew, deep down, that he was close enough to respond to her call if she needed him. Turning back to her path, she took a deep breath and kept walking.

Footsteps. On both sides. To her surprise, her path suddenly merged with multiple others, and several other hikers, all of whom she knew and loved, emerged from the trees and joined her. They took her hands and walked with her, their love pulling her onward.

A change beneath her feet made her look down in surprise.

Then she smiled.

The path had turned upward again.

The Rest of My Life

Yes, watch it. It's only 14 seconds long. Plus, it sums up the main point of my post today.



Okay, cross out "revenge business" and insert "planningongoingtothetemple business" and you've pretty much nailed my feelings this week.

Yes, the temple was incredible. Yes, it really is just the beginning, not the end, and I'm super stoked to go back over and over for the rest of my life because it would take me multiple lifetimes to truly grasp all of the beautiful symbolism that goes on in the temple.

But here's my problem: I've crossed off one of my major goals. Pretty much all of my efforts my whole life (and the last 2-3 years especially) have been focused on this one moment. And I don't have a similarly grand and check-markable goal to put in its place. Yes, there's the goal to go to the temple for the rest of my life, but it's hard to put a check mark next to that when you're done. Because that's the point: you're never done.

So I have been feeling a little lost this week. Nothing horrible or depressing, just directionless. I've been so focused for so long that this sudden freedom is disorienting.

But! I've come up with a fairly lofty goal that I'm pretty excited about. I'm going to go to every temple in Utah. Then, someday, I'm going to go to each temple associated with my old hometowns or any place that my family has lived. Also, whenever I go somewhere new that has a temple nearby, I'm going to make sure I go.

We'll see how plausible/doable this goal ends up being, but it's pushed some of the wind back into my sails, and that's what I needed most right now.

I promise I'm happy, though. I have been at so much at peace that it sometimes stresses me out (does that make sense? You know how you know that something should bother you but it doesn't, and that bothers you? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about). But I'm happy. :)

Job Hunting

Yes, in answer to the question that some of you may be asking after my last post, I do in fact have a job opportunity. More proof---as if I needed any---that the Lord blesses me far more than I deserve. I've been attempting to job hunt for the last couple of months (emphasis on "attempting"), but every time I tried, I found myself stopped in my tracks, or completely sidetracked onto something else. I kept pushing at it, but only got the feeling that the Lord was saying, "Lynnae. Relax. I've got this. Focus on the temple. I'll take care of the rest." (Incidentally, that exact same answer also applies to my dating life...)

So, with a little bit of grumbling and suppressed internal-freak-outs, I did just that, keeping an aloof eye on the job postings online, just in case anything jumped out at me.

Then, I happened to talk to the copyeditor at the Ensign (the beautiful Lia who taught me a ton about editing during my internship) and she happened to mention that, due to her soon-to-be-born daughter, the managing editors were accepting applications for her position. "You should apply," she told me.

Right at that moment, I felt like a huge flashing sign went off in my head that said, "YesyesyesyesyesyesYES! Apply!"

So I did.

After a couple of grueling tests that left my brain feeling more than a little mushy/sloshy, I finally have an interview. For today. So I'm all dressed up, squeaky clean, and praying desperately that I get this job. I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing.

Whichever way it works out, this has been proof that the Lord is indeed at the reins. I'm just glad that I've been paying attention when He gives me an answer to the questions I'm asking. I'm not always good at that.

Peace

Peace is finding the answer that you didn't know you needed at the moment you need it most. And realizing that the answer is exactly what you need.

I'm grateful that the Lord gives us answers when we ask for help. It may not be what we thought we wanted, but it's always what we need. And I'm always surprised when a tiny sting of disappointment produces a feeling of overwhelming peace immediately afterward. That doesn't happen every time, but it did tonight.

I have been blessed in a million ways, with all the people and things that I need most.

Everything else is just icing on the triple-chocolate, extra-fudge, enough-sugar-to-send-you-straight-to-heaven cake.

Fear

Ever find yourself just giving in to irrational fears? Yeah, me too.

I've been thinking about it a lot today. Why do we get afraid? What do we really have to lose? Especially for me, I really don't have a lot at stake. There are so many things that I'm absolutely sure of. My family's love, my friends' support, my knowledge of the gospel. I can't lose those. Not really.

And, to be honest, no matter what I've gone through, it's always, always been worth it. More than worth it.

Just a reminder to myself.

Favorite Hymn

So, after many years of deliberation, I think I finally have a favorite hymn.



This is, incidentally, also one of my favorite arrangements of it.

I love this hymn for many reasons. For one, it brings back some very beautiful memories of Tunnel Singing at BYU (yes, yes, I did it. Just not as a freshman). For another, we sang a simply gorgeous arrangement of it for the Davis County Conference. I was singing in the choir, and we had the once in a lifetime opportunity to sing from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir seats in the Conference Center. Singing this song to all of those people was a sacred experience. That was also the day that the Lord let me know that it was time to go through the temple, so everything about that day has become so much more special to me.

Through all of my ups and downs, this song has always brought me peace. It has also always filled me with a profound sense of gratitude for a Heavenly Father who is constantly trying to draw me nearer to Him. I am so blessed.

Love to See the Temple

My interviews are scheduled, my plane ticket is purchased, and I'll be in Texas to share one of the biggest moments of my life with my parents. 

This is where I'll be on August 11th, at 11:00 am. So, so, so, so happy. :)

San Antonio Texas Temple photo courtesy of the Church's temple site. Obviously it won't be night when I go through, but this is my favorite picture of it. :)

Beautiful Heartbreak

A good friend of mine just had her heart broken, so I've been thinking about a favorite song of mine a lot recently.



What surprised me when I listened to it this morning, though, was that I suddenly realized that I was on the other side of heartbreak. I'm on the top, looking around at things that I never would have been able to see before.

For those of you who don't already know, I'm finally, finally going through the temple in August. It's something that I have wanted for so many years. And it means so much more to me than all of my other achievements combined. Graduating last year has nothing on how deeply I feel about this goal.

I feel like flying.

To be quite honest, I feel like this song:



Incidentally, Brave is a fantastic movie. I highly recommend it. :)

Easter

I know I haven't been blogging very often. There are a lot of reasons for that, many of them having to do with personal struggles. But today is Easter, and it means more to me this year than I think it ever has.

I've never been much into the chocolate, bunnies, and eggs for Easter. You can probably credit that to my parents, who have never been big on it either. Because of that, Easter has only had one prominent meaning for me: the Resurrection. I didn't usually have chocolate or baskets to look forward to, and it did mean that Easter didn't hold a ton of significance for me as a kid, because I didn't really understand the Atonement back then.

But as I've gotten older and come to understand how much I need Christ, Easter has started to become one of my favorite times of the year. This year, I've been thinking a lot about how my Savior sees me.

That may sound a little odd. But I know how I feel about Him. And the more I study the Atonement, the more I realize that I am absolutely nothing without Him. But that often leads to those terrible feelings of not being good enough to deserve that kind of love, especially when I've been struggling in other areas of my life.

But this whole weekend, I've been trying to forget how inadequate I feel and focus on how the Lord feels about me. It helps that my wonderful, amazing missionary brother seems to be having the same feelings of inadequacy that I have. It's easy to see how the Lord feels about Brian, because it's a magnification of the love I feel for him. I would move heaven and earth to lighten my brother's load and show him that he hasn't given me any reason to be disappointed in him. Even his struggles have made me love him all the more. I know the Lord's feelings about my brother are unfathomably deeper than my own.

If I can see the Lord's never-failing love for my brother, doesn't it make sense that He feels the same about me, inadequate though I am? I wish I could explain how I feel. For a girl who has made words her life, this is one subject that I can never do justice to. Words fail me every single time.

But I know this. That it's okay to look up at heaven and cry out, "I can't do this anymore." It's okay to be like the father of a stricken boy who looked up at the mortal Christ with pleading eyes and begged, "Help thou my unbelief." Faith was a prerequisite to the miracle that father sought, but he knew he was weak. When Jesus asked him if he had faith, he answered yes. But there seems to be an unwritten exchange in that moment, in which the father reevaluates himself and then says some of the sweetest words ever uttered, "Help thou my unbelief."

What I love most about that story is that Christ heals the boy, knowing that weak as it was, the father's faith was still enough.

It's okay to ask the Lord to be our strength because ours has run out.

That's when He wraps His arms around you and lifts both you and your heavy load. And at His touch, you suddenly realize that the warmth of His closeness is utterly familiar to you, because He's always been right there, hands outstretched to brace you at the slightest stumble.

The weaknesses we feel, the self-doubt, and inadequacy, are our own feelings, not His. No amount of trial and error or personal failings can ever make Him turn away from us. Think of a person you dearly love who has struggled. Would you, even for a second, really consider giving up on them? Never. You may let them make their choices, but would you be there in an instant if they asked for your help? I hope the answer is yes. It certainly is yes when it comes to the Savior's attention to each of us.

You know, I have studied literary figures and heroes practically my whole life. And for all of their virtues, no hero ever comes close to being able to do for the people they serve and die for what Christ has done for every. single. person who has ever lived on this earth. For you. For me. Every day.

I love this song, and I think it sums up many of my feelings about the Savior on this most sacred and beautiful of days.



I love my Savior. I am nothing without Him, and yet He has made everything of me. I hope you all feel His love today especially, and every day.

Happy Easter

If Ye Are Prepared

I'm a planner. I like thinking ahead. I was the BYU Freshman who had all of my classes planned out until graduation. Each semester, I revisited that schedule and changed it, but I had a plan. For most of my life, I've been able to see where I would be for more than a year ahead.

Now, I have no idea what life will be like for me three weeks from now.

My internship is ending on December 30th. I have one job interview this week and a couple of leads on places to look for employment, but after that, nothing. If I don't land this job, I'm not sure where to start on anything else.

For all intents and purposes, you should expect to find my picture under the dictionary definition for "panic attack." (Incidentally, I just checked: Webster's does not have an entry for "panic attack," but dictionary.com does---because knowing that matters to me.) I should be having a nervous breakdown right now. And, to be frank, when people start digging vigorously into my plans for my future, I get the flutterings of panic in the pit of my stomach.

But I am consistently surprised how at peace I am in general. When I'm not actively answering questions about my future, the stress is rarely eating at the back of my mind the way I'd expect it to.

And it's not that I'm a master at stress-management (family and ex-roommates, feel free to smirk knowingly here) or that I'm lazy and unconcerned about my future or anything. I owe my peace of mind to the Lord.

I'm not perfect at trusting in His plan for me, but I've noticed recently that I've gotten better at it. I feel confident that I'm in the right place, doing the right thing.

I had a really beautiful conversation with my friends at work during a meeting, where we talked about the meaning of the scripture "If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear," namely, why we don't need to fear. It comes down to the idea that the Lord loves us so very much that He wants us to succeed. He wants us to be happy and fulfilled. He will never set us up for failure or abject misery. He may allow us to experience things that test us and make us grow, but He will never try to make us miserable. The preparation part is our responsibility to do what is within our control. He will take care of the rest.

I'm feeling comfortable with my end of this preparation scale, and I know that the Lord keeps His promises. And not everything in my life is up in the air. There are some things that I do have control over that are contributing to my peace of mind:
~I have a place to live (more than one, actually, thanks to generous offers from friends and psuedo-family-members) for an indefinite amount of time, and multiple offers that will accommodate my financial needs if I need to tighten my living expenses.
~Thanks to saving for a car, I've built up a healthy little nest egg of savings that will support me for a few months of unemployment. I need that money for a car, but it's there if the greater need of survival comes up.
~My resume is polished and well-rounded---and extremely adaptable to the various types of jobs I've been looking at/applying for.

I can't control whether a company considers my application or not. I can't dictate the outcomes of job interviews. I can't be confident that I'm the best-qualified applicant for the job. But I can keep the rest of my life in order so that, no matter how hard it gets or how long the job hunt draws out, I have some measure of security.

Here are a couple of other reasons why I'm not panicky right now:

~In a priesthood blessing, the Lord told me flat-out not to worry---that's a pretty good reason, don't you think?
~I just got a new calling in my ward, less than three weeks before, ostensibly, I would have to move---since callings are divinely inspired, I feel allowed to hope that that means the Lord kind of wants to keep me in the same place for a little longer.
~Normally, I'd have the packing boxes out and would be more than halfway packed by now, but I've felt no inclination whatsoever to pack. This break from my typical behavior suggests either hope-driven delusion, or Spirit-inspired stupor of thought regarding packing. If it's the former, I have bigger problems than packing to worry about. I'd like to think that I'm fairly receptive to the promptings of the Spirit. Enough so that I'd know whether I should start packing or not.
~I also keep experiencing stupors of thought when it comes to jobs outside of Salt Lake. The ones that keep coming back up---or dropping in my lap in the first place---are all local. Another thing that makes me feel hopeful about finding something nearby so that I don't have to uproot and start over completely once again.

I hope that gives you a little peek into my mind (and my future) and puts to rest a few of your questions. I'd also like to express my sincere gratitude for the people in my life who have been praying for me, crossing their fingers for me, thinking about me, and wishing for my success. It makes a huge difference to know that I am loved and supported. I wish each of you success in the dreams you're chasing as well.

Ender's Lesson

I've often heard that you learn so much from having children. Well, I don't have children. Of my own, at least. But I learn a lot just from being an aunt to my best friend's children. Where better to learn the lessons of eternity than from those who have only very recently left it?

A couple of weekends ago, I spent a couple of days with Qait and her family. You all know how I feel about being there. It's the best thing in the world. But I can't stay there forever, and each time I leave, Ender's tears always tug at my heartstrings. This time was a little different, though. As Ender gets older, he's developed a lot more smarts about the adults in his life. He's gotten to the point where he knows that I live somewhere else, and when I leave, I'll be back. But that doesn't mean he likes it any better.

I told him I had to pack up my things, and he departed from his usual tears and "please stays" and decided to get mad that I was leaving instead. He growled (and three-year-old growls are just cute, even when they convey anger) and stormed away from me, refusing to look at me and deciding to take his anger out on the nearest toy, which he kicked across the room. I continued to patiently explain to him that I had to take care of other things, and that other people needed to see me, too, but he was too upset by the fact that I wasn't staying with him that he wasn't really listening.

I knew it was because he loved me. He wanted me to stay close by and play with him and fix his problems, just the way his mother did. I loved him too, but he wasn't listening to me when I tried to remind him just how much.

Finally, I dropped to my knees in front of him and caught his hand as he tried to push me away. I murmured soothingly in his ear and gathered him up into my arms, rocking him back and forth until his temper cooled. I told him I still loved him even when I wasn't with him. I told him that he still had Mom and Dad and Scarlett with him and that I would be back again soon. He still kept that sulky lower lip out for a while, but eventually, he relaxed and snuggled deep into my arms with a quiet "Love you, too."

That was an unusual experience where I had the chance to intervene in one of Ender's (rare) temper tantrums and be more "mom" than "aunt." And that was all I thought of it for awhile.

But over this last week, I've come to realize how very much I'm like Ender. I don't always completely understand things, and out of selfishness, I often want the Lord to stay really close by and fix all my problems. And when He tries to give me an answer, sometimes I push away or ignore Him because I'm too busy with my immediate problem.

And yet He is always willing to kneel at our eye level, pull us into His arms, and whisper "I love you" in our ears.

Nothing Ender did when he was upset changed how much I loved him. I only wanted him to be happy and trust that I was there for him. I didn't walk away or even look away from him during his fit. I kept all of my attention focused on how to help him understand. The Lord does the same thing for me.

When I get caught up in my own problems and stop listening to His voice, He doesn't leave me. My lack of understanding does not provoke Him into turning away. Instead, He sends the Spirit to speak to me on my level as He gathers me into His arms and reassures me that I am beloved and treasured. Far more so than I can possibly treasure Ender.

It's November now. Thanksgiving. It's one of my favorite holidays of the year (and I actually get to spend Thanksgiving with my family for the first time in five years) because it's a time where we make a special effort to express our gratitude. I am thankful for Ender, for the powerful lesson he taught me about my Savior's devotion to me. If I can love my nephew that much, how much more patient and loving is the Savior toward me?

I may get upset. I may even break things. But the Savior loves me still. I know I seem to relearn this lesson every few months (or weeks) or so, but it's such a vital thing for every child of God to understand.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of learning that lesson.

Little Mercies

The Lord loves me. Once upon a time (Friday) I wrote a blog post about feeling not-so-happy and wanting to do something about it. All of a sudden, the next three days are filled with people who love me and messages that inspire me.

Most of it happened today. I was sitting in sacrament meeting, thinking about what the sacrament is and what it means to me, and this quote from Anne of Green Gables popped into my head: "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it." When we take the sacrament, we renew our covenants with the Lord. It struck me as the perfect opportunity to step away from my feelings of doubt and inadequacy and start over fresh.

So what if I'd slacked off (and I promise, I didn't turn into some reprobate who didn't do anything church-related... I just slipped into going through the motions without getting anything meaningful out of it) or allowed myself to spend too much time on meaningless time-wasting activities? Nothing is stopping me from doing better right now.

And that's what I did.

All of a sudden, all the good things were easier to recognize for what they were. The amazing lessons in Sunday School and Relief Society, the text from my roommate planning a sleepover this weekend, seeing some of my new friends multiple times in the day, going to an incredible fireside by Alex Boye, meeting an attractive new guy, talking to my family, etc.

I would say that it felt like all these good things started happening at once, but a lot of them, especially my friendships, were already there. I just didn't see them for the blessings that they are.

I'm so grateful for tender mercies.

Mercy

Hi.

Still off my game today.

It's more than just the sleep/sick thing.

It's really hard for me to feel less-than-happy, which is actually probably true of most people. I'm a happy person. I like to be happy. And it's even harder right now, when I should by all accounts be happier than I've ever been. I have my dream job. It's an amazing job, which most of you already know by now. And I know that my life has a lot of promise in it. Things that I don't have yet are already well-planned on the Lord's timetable. It's all taken care of to maximize my happiness.

So why do I feel unhappy?

I'm lonely. That's the simple truth. And it's hard to acknowledge it, because a lot of it is my fault. I stay at home when I should go out. I moved away from my entire support system. I close off around the people who are in my life right now. I don't make the effort to go down to visit my old friends.

I should do better, but it's so tempting to just give up. And the shameful part is that, too often---especially recently---I do. I take the easy route: book in my lap, alone in my room. It's simpler than trying to find a ride to get somewhere I've never been before and talk to people I don't know.

A woman I really admire wrote an emotionally honest blog post this morning, and I felt like jumping in a plane to Texas and hugging her, because it's good to know that I'm not the only one struggling with self-reproach and feeling down. She talked about not letting the guilt of things undone eat you into giving up. She also talked about trying to focus on the positive things after acknowledging the not-so-great things.

I felt like bursting into tears of gratitude. First, because she is someone I really, really love, and I know that I could curl up in her arms and sob and she would still love me. (No, she's not my mother, though Mom certainly fits that description, too.) Second, because it felt like a gift from the Lord, telling me when I needed it most that it's okay to feel the way I feel and providing me a solution in the same message.

Today, more than ever, I am truly breath-taken by the Lord's mercy. I've been slacking. I've been lazy in my zeal about the gospel. I haven't been living up to my own best standards. And yet, in a moment where I feel I least deserve mercy, the Lord still tells me that He loves me. He blesses me with a sweet reassurance that He is still right here with me, and He's still giving me blessings, even though I've done so little to deserve them.

It's amazing how much He loves me---loves us. I found a beautiful quote that captures what I understand about my relationship to the Savior:

"This is grace: The willingness to give what has not been earned and what may not be deserved---it is certainly the highest virtue and the deepest expression of love." (Excerpt from the 9/11/11 Memorial Service of Music and the Spoken Word (I love that my job makes me find things like this more often than I would otherwise))

The original context talked about mankind showing this grace for each other, and I happen to feel that it would make a really excellent piece of marriage/parenting advice, but I think it applies to the Savior as well. This is my relationship with Him: I can never earn my own salvation, and most of the time, I feel like I don't deserve to even try for it, but He is willing to love me anyway. Even the tiniest "act" of acknowledging that I'm not where I want to be brings great rewards, despite the fact that I haven't done anything to change---or even figured out how to go about changing---at the time. The simple thought, "I'm not happy, and I want to change that" suddenly opens an avalanche of loving reassurance and counsel.

Before I know it, I'm reading things that apply to my problems, I stumble across a solution in the most unexpected place, and it's suddenly much easier to see the hand of God in my life. From that, the tiniest blossom of hope blooms, then faith, then confidence that I can do what needs to be done. I can keep doing this. Giving up ceases to be the only solution. In fact, it drops off the option-list altogether.

This cycle happens over and over, every day. Many times each day, even. And we are all so blessed that the Lord never gets tired of it.

Strength in Weakness

I'm always amazed at how God can take our mistakes, weaknesses, and struggles and turn them in our favor. I know that's kind of a big way to open a new blog post, especially when I haven't posted anything particularly informative recently. But I've been thinking about it a lot.

A lot of times, I feel like I'm not eloquent enough, consistent enough, scripture-savvy enough, faithful enough, or whatever-else-enough compared to somebody else, especially when it comes to my testimony. Working at the Ensign and reading countless incredible stories and talks everyday has brought those feelings into sharper relief, because I'm surrounded by so many incredible testimonies. What is my own tiny one in comparison? What right do I have to be editing these words when I never could have said them that way myself? 

But a few weeks ago, I had this very profound thought, and thank goodness I had the presence of mind to write it down, or I might have lost it. A testimony is not about how much you know, but rather about what you already know about the Savior. (Maybe that's a "duh" thing for a lot of you, but it was somewhat revelatory to me.)

Some of the most beautiful testimonies I've ever heard are from those who are only just starting to get to know their Savior. They haven't brushed against many of the deeper, more complex layers of the gospel, and yet their testimonies are so rich and powerful anyway. Granted, the deeply personal, poetic, sweeping testimonies of the prophets and apostles are equally powerful, but I think that serves to strengthen my point. When we stop trying to know everything everyone else does and focus instead on what we already know, we find our personal strength. 

We don't have to be perfect for the Lord to use us to bless His other children. In many cases, it is our imperfection that makes it possible for Him to use us to lift someone else. Because how many of us respond better to a sympathetic ear than to someone who's never experienced what we have? Pretty much all of us. That's what makes the Savior's atoning sacrifice so powerful and transcendent: He experienced all things and so He can nurture us in all things.

This isn't an excuse to stop trying to improve, by any means. But if you're like me, you tend to hold yourself to a higher bar than you hold everyone else, and this is a reason to stop pushing yourself so mercilessly hard. President Uchtdorf said last night that too often, we compare our weaknesses to someone else's strengths. That's like comparing apples to brussels sprouts. They are the farthest thing from a valid comparison. 

So instead of worrying about how much I know--and still have to learn--I've spent the last few weeks focusing more on the things I know. Quantity is far less significant than quality. And the cool thing? As you improve the quality of your belief in the things you already know, even if that's only one or two things, you find that the quantity increases, too. I speak from personal experience on this one. :)

Creativity

So I was talking to my dad tonight: we were pondering the meaning of life (or, more specifically, the meaning of all this education-stuff I've gotten in the last 22 years) and trying to reignite the passion I feel for editing. See, perhaps as a strange side-effect of my looming graduation, my psyche seems to have decided to have a mid-life crisis... BEFORE life actually happens. Pre-emptive, but not very helpful. So cue all the doubts about loving what I do, am I really in the right career, do I want to spend my life doing this stuff, maybe I should quit and go to beauty school, yada yada yada. You get the picture.

So Dad reminds me that, hey Lynnae, you really do love this stuff, remember? What do you love about it?

And I got to thinking.

What I love most about editing is being a part of creating something beautiful. A book (or a magazine) is just as much a work of art as, well, a work of art. The editor is not the sculptor who takes the raw clay and fashions it into something, but rather the... okay, so I can't think of a good sculpting metaphor for an editor. Back to simple summation: the editor takes the author's work and finishes it. There's a refining process that all books must go through (though I suspect, judging by the quality of some literature, that not all of them do...) to take them from merely acceptable to truly memorable pieces of work. Authors do a lot of this work themselves, but often under an editor's watchful eye and helping hand.

I love being a part of that. I love working with authors, watching them improve, learning from them, and ultimately, working together to create something we both can be proud of. (Which is why, in some of the technical editing I've been doing, my morale has been suffering: the people I edit for only care about lack of errors and acceptable printability, rather than the art of making something read beautifully. It gets hard to pour your heart into something that even the creator doesn't care about.)

To my surprise, my dad understood exactly how I felt. He began to tell me about how he loved using physics modeling software to re-create the world around him, making it as realistic as possible. It was thrilling for him to take the basic tools of physics, mathematics, and software and use them to build a virtual reproduction of his literal world. To him, that was beautiful.

And then I got to thinking again. (I know, right?)

I thought about all the different things people have told me about why they love what they do. It doesn't matter what it was: designing a successful ad campaign, saving a life, raising a family, becoming a teacher, programming a computer, training for a race, you name it. When it comes down to why people love doing what they do, it always taps into the power of creation.

What follows is the Doctrine of Lynnae. Don't take it for 100% truth. It's a working-epiphany I had with my dad tonight, but I thought I'd share it.

We tend to think of creation in a limited sense: the cosmically miraculous way God created the earth, or the creation-process of bringing actual life into the world, or an author developing a new world for people to get lost in. A lot of times we forget that we can utilize our God-given powers of creation in a million different ways. And because creation is a trait inherited through our divine lineage, we are drawn towards it. When you find people who absolutely love what they do, it's because they are involved in creating.

Writing a new computer program that solves a problem better or faster than the program before. Using medicine to create healthy new cells where only diseased ones existed. Taking simple, unassuming ingredients and creating a culinary masterpiece. Assisting in the development of young minds as they learn about the world around them. Training a body to run faster, work harder, or endure longer.

So what about people who don't love what they do? I suspect they just haven't delved deep enough into their field to find where the creative processes are actively at work. Or perhaps they are better suited to creating in another field and chose money or job-security over doing something that they were truly good at.

It's all about creating. About making something better out of the materials we're given to work with. It doesn't matter how rough or how refined those materials are when they get into our hands. When we improve upon them, we are contributing to the creative process.

Even if, as President Uchtdorf once said, we are simply creating smiles.