I'm in the midst of studying for the bar (I'm trying, I really am trying), but there have been births and deaths and the long-awaited delivery of twins, with one live and one stillborn. A birth and a death, I guess. There are weddings to attend to (invitations, RSVPs, gifts, and receptions), still-pending births and past and coming birthdays to celebrate, visiting teaching to do, home teaching to be done to, and Relief Society lessons to plan, prepare for, and pray over.
There are cars that overheat, friends who are sick, molasses cookies that are too cakey (too cakey, even on a second try--what would do that?), and fruits/veggies that need to be bought so I will eat them and not the too-cakey molasses cookies. (Or any of the other sweet treats that fill our kitchen. At this exact moment in time, our kitchen holds chocolate chip cookie bites, freshly homemade chocolate chip cookies, Milano cookies, some strawberry-plum pie, and a secret stash of Skittles that MH is ready to break out when we need them. I am studying in the library today.) And Palo Alto is beautiful, and I'm leaving here soon, and there are only so many more hours I can spend on my favorite blanket in my favorite spot in my favorite park.
I'm trying to pray earnestly and make good decisions well and be close to the Spirit and to the people around me. I'm having even more trouble with those who are far away. But my prayers are harried, restless, list-y, and heartfelt. And I was called to action, to arms, by reading again or for the first time Elder Maxwell's 1995 talk, "Swallowed Up in the Will of the Father" and Elder Holland's "The Grandeur of God," except really I should stop reading their articles, stop blogging about them, and shut my computer down and study like a mad woman.
All of this is to say that this is actually being a tender time and a holy time, when, of course, it's not being a straight-up stressful and there-is-work-needing-to-get-done time.
I'd tell a joke here to show that I'm not feeling dour and to lighten the mood, but for the life of me, I can't think of anything funny.
(Juice? I've always thought juice was funny. It's like fruit blood. And we drink it. Imagine: a pen filled with juice. Oh man. Still, after all these years, I think it's funny.)
My mom's family letter of yesterday, which usually would end with a rallying "do good, be good" admonition, ended with this: "Have a faithful, happy day, or fill up your gas tanks and gather your armies and know that you are loved."
Let's review the options.
1. Have a happy, faithful day, ORI think I can handle that. At least one of the two. (Ha. It just struck me. Multiple choice is right up my alley these days.)
2. Fill up your gas tanks, gather your armies, and know that you are loved.
My heart is with all of you who are also feeling like choosing the second.