People are Beautiful

"People are beautiful. You know?" This was a thought presented by one of my missionaries in a letter she sent home. And it struck me hard.

Even in my limited experience, I am getting to know a lot of different people and life stories. And I am beginning to realize, just arriving at the tip of the iceburg really...We are all children of our Heavenly Father, just with different experiences to share. And we can learn from each other!

There is a boy. One of my dear friends, actually. He is struggling a lot with the Church and pressure to go on a mission (because ninety-eight percent of our graduating class is leaving right after high school, it seems. I feel that pressure too.) Anyway, I have found myself in a situation where I try to help him understand the love God has for him. And that God's love is ultimately more important than anything else. We talk together about his struggles and it has been such an amazing testimony builder...for ME. I feel so selfish sharing the gospel, sharing the love, sharing His love- because I feel like I am gaining infinitely more blessings than my friend! Oh but I love it. I love it.

Tangent: Those people I always thought were always perfect? NEWSFLASH, they're not. My brother Max, for example. I have always looked up to him and he created an impossible standard in my mind. But the more I grow up and realize that he is not perfect, the more I love him. I have seen his imperfections especially through the difficulty of missionary work, which is ironic because he strives for perfection on his mission more than ever before. 

Without going into more detail about my perceptions of others' imperfections (motes, beams, Hymn 273), I have developed a theory:

THEORY

When considering the interconnection one has with another, the aforementioned propinquity is thus unconsciously fortified by the culmination of awareness that a given species has more similarities than anomalies in all respects of cognitive, behavioral, and environmental influences.

Haha. In English, that means that I believe that when I realize other people are like me...busy, forgetful, self-conscious, cough, HUMAN...my relationship with them is strengthened. The gap is closed. There is less distance between us, and so we become closer. 

I begin to see similarities and cute quirks in traits that were once annoyances and blemishes. I am more inclined to accept, even if I don't agree. 

What it all boils down to is this: take away the judgement, the predicament, the difference. Take it all away, and what do you and I have in common? WE ARE CHILDREN OF GOD. Who loves us and we love Him. 

While this is true, the judgements and predicaments and differences unfortunately do still exist, and occasionally arise in conflict. It is difficult for me to imagine situations from another person's point of view. I often wonder, as Elder W. Craig Zwick did in our most recent General Conference, "What are you thinking!?" (Read his talk here)

However, between the mistakes, flaws, faults, bumheadedness, and pain- there is beauty. People are beautiful, and they deserve to know it. Over the last few weeks, I have received many promptings to consider my own judgements, and simply accept, even if I don't agree. So I am taking this charge to minister grace and let you know that you are beautiful.

(Or handsome. Whichever one applies.)

The Mission Decision.

This has been weighing on my mind ever since President Monson announced that I can begin missionary service at age nineteen.

Prior to October 2012 I had not considered serving a full-time mission. The timing never seemed to fit in my plan of college and marriage and babies. And frankly, I didn't have a desire. A mission was not for me. When the prophetic age change was revealed, I was immediately overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy and worry. I felt I had to make the decision to serve my mission right away. These feelings persisted for months, fed by pressure from everyone around me. The age change was a hot topic, but I never felt quite comfortable sharing exactly what I had on my mind. People would ask me nearly every day, "Are you going to serve a mission?" Friends, family, neighbors, strangers.. Others around me were excited. Oh, I wanted to be excited. But the only answer--the most truthful answer--I could give was I DON'T KNOW. I felt lame. Inadequate. "Not spiritual enough."

Fast forward six months to April General Conference.. Should I serve a mission? I begged for a lightning-bolt answer to my question. In pursuit of that answer, I took extensive notes on all five sessions. And I am oh so glad I did. Never have I felt the influence of the Holy Ghost quite like I did during those ten hours, and reading those notes allows me to re-experience those promptings. I did not receive the answer I was looking for. But.. After listening intently to inspired speakers and prophets, I came to the conclusion that it's okay not to know. My worry dissipated and I felt assured that when the time came, I would be able to make the right decision.

A short time later, I talked to my bishop about the possibility of a full-time mission. He gave me the best advice I've heard yet: PREPARE for missionary service, no matter what. Financially, emotionally, spiritually.. When it comes time, the only factor will then be God's will.  If I am supposed to serve a mission, I will know. And I will be prepared. If I am not supposed to serve a mission, I will know. And my preparation will benefit every other aspect of my life.

It has now been a year and half since I began thinking about my mission. First it was a source of worry, tension, confusion. Now I feel excitement, peace, and comfort. I know now that I will serve a mission.

My mission might be serving in my ward at BYU, starting my own family, or being sent somewhere in this great big world to share the gospel.. I still don't know that part! There are many missions for me to fulfill. I believe that I will receive an answer when the time comes. And if I don't receive "yes" or "no," I'll take that as a sign of His trust in my ability to choose. These are all good things and I want to experience all of them. But for now, I will simply prepare. And be happy! This gospel brings me so much joy and I try to share it everyday, even if I don't wear a black name-tag.

(The Mission Decision: Brittany Beattie)

A Blessing in Disguise

Since serving as a class officer in the eighth grade, my greatest ambition was to be elected as senior class president. Some people might cringe at the thought of planning reunions for the rest of their lives, but I craved it. I love planning, helping, and creating memories. My only drawback while I considered running for office was the possibility of failure. I would feel humiliated to put my name before my peers, to actively campaign, to work so hard: only to fail. Finally, after months of preparation--emotionally and otherwise--I took the final step of fulfilling my dream and put my name on the ballot. 

During those weeks, I forced myself to set aside my fears of rejection. I invested my heart in my campaign. After an exhausting first round of elections, I made it through the primaries. I was empowered by this accomplishment, and I began to enjoy myself through the rest of campaigns. It was fun to encourage my peers to vote, and I soon forgot my apprehension in running. Then came the day of final elections. I gave a speech that morning, and was told to expect a phone call from the current senior class president that evening. 

As soon as I got to the sanction of home, away from the influence of my peers, I sat in my room for three hours unable to do anything but wait for that phone call- a call that would determine my senior year of high school. I have to say, I felt very confident that I would win after being told so by teachers, friends, and family. But doubt still nagged at me. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the phone rang and I hesitantly picked up. For a moment, my heart leapt for joy! Then like a shipwreck, it plunged, when I heard his melancholy voice. I lost. I lost. I lost. That is the only thought I had as I began to cry. Everything I had worked for and dreamed of in the last four years was gone, over a simple phone call.

I put my heart into that election, and frankly it was the first time I had ever truly lost something. Sure, I’ve lost a few tennis matches and races and card games; but I’ve never lost a close family member, I’ve never lost a close friend, and I’ve never gotten less than an A. I really felt like a failure when I wasn’t elected. However, that feeling did not last. My friends and family immediately helped me get back on my feet and be okay. Through their support, I realized that I am surrounded by people who truly love me. I know that their love is unconditional. This understanding has carried me through other hardships since then. Also, a few days after the bad news, I was called to serve on Viewmont’s LDS Seminary Council. In hindsight, I see that I would have missed that opportunity if I were elected, among many others. 

I am reminded of this “failure” everyday at school, but I now consider it a blessing. The most important lesson I have gained from this experience is to trust in the Lord at all costs. Even though my plan to be senior class president seemed good and uplifting, it was not what He had in store for me. Instead, I’ve been blessed to know who my true friends are, I’ve been able to spend precious time with family before I leave for good, and I’ve been presented with countless ordinary, yet powerful, opportunities to serve my peers.