The End of the Beginning

As you may or may not know, on the twenty and fourth day of this next month, being the well named October, I shall embark upon a journey. A journey of several hundred miles to the exotic land of Provo, Utah where I shall report to the Missionary Training Center located in said city. At this time, having beforehand been set apart as a full-time missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I will commence a life of studying. This studying will be of the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and of the Spanish language, for the ultimate purpose of teaching and proselyting such to the people of the Republic of Chile. To share God's word and the love He has for His children.
Thereby, we approach the end. In less than thirty days my life will change from being mine to being my Father's. Maybe that distinction is something I should already have, but alas it is not. As this mark draws ever nearer, I find myself reflecting increasingly on my life to date. Some pieces I find disappointing, others still fill me with excitement, a few are not yet understood or never may be, and mostly I just can't remember what has happened in my life. There is a large amount of blank space in my memory. I can't decide whether that's a good thing or not. Regardless, I have lived for more than 164,200 hours and I expect to live several times that more. I'll give you that a third of this will be spent sleeping, but I have a question for myself and for you to ask yourself, as well. Is this worth my time? I've danced around this concept often for the past few years, but never have I literally voiced it. Yet now, I find it extremely satisfying. I'm rather fond of this phrase already.
Too much of this world is completely and utterly pointless. The activity I am surrounded by each and every day, quite often serves such minuscule function if not absolutely no purpose. Yes, I do understand that we are all a part of this world and also that we cannot just pick up and be self-sufficient very easily, but I do believe that we can minimize a large portion of wasted effort. I am not saying that leisure and social activity is not necessary either, as a good sibling of mine was so kind to point out by assuming that is what I meant by my words. Rest and relaxation is just as vital as work and intensity. We do need balance. However, I am saying that I think our scale is maybe quite notably skewed towards silliness and aimless exertion or rather, nonexertion. By spending some quality time with my new favorite question, 'Is this worth my time?', I have felt my own scale begin to right itself. And a pleasurable and satisfying feeling it is.
So I leave with you a testimony. My friends, we have a loving God. A kind and caring Heavenly Father who knows each of us personally, who knows our thoughts, ambitions, fears and desires. He KNOWS us, better than we know ourselves, and only wants the greatest of all for us. As if that wasn't incredible enough on its own, another stood for us. Another stepped into our shoes. Our brother Jesus Christ perfected His life with no thought but for us, braved our sins, felt our sicknesses, embraced our fears, our worries, walked our dark and lonely paths, received our every pain, and failed not to carry us each step of our lives. Even giving His life, our Savior rose to raise every child of God with Him. They live, my friends. They are beside me and you if only we ask. Of these truths I bear witness, in the name of my Lord and Beloved, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Time

Questions for you. What is time exactly? Does time truly exist? Does the marking of a physical passing of the sun really signify a passing of this concept named time? Or rather, is it just a change in energy manifest in the rotation of our solar system and planet respectively. You may say then, if there is no time, how is there a past and a future? What if a memory is not a distance in time into the past, but rather a point of progression of you. Our perception of time is a societal impression. What do we have that shows us or even describes time? We have memories. Memories of our own and descriptions from others. I propose that rather than a journey through this concept of time, what we really have is an expansion of energy of everything and a progression(also an expansion of energy) of people; consciousnesses, spirits, minds, whatever is the actuality of a person. We know that without expansion we have decay. If this applies to the universe, and as we are a part of it, why not to ourselves? Moving on (I notice I don't dwell very long on a single concept :\ Oh well.). So, we can perceive the present. What is the past and what is the future? What is the past to me are these memories, but what are they? It is a remembrance of what we have done and how we used to be, but does that mean there has been a passing of time? Or rather a progression or development of something or someone? Fun stuff. ;)

Do You See?

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me;
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft times He weaveth sorrow,
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not 'till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weavers skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares.
Nothing this truth can dim;
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.

This is a poem I discovered in a very random place.

Several very significant times in my life I have studied my past and found trends and subtle pushes that have molded me into I am. Every time I do this, it is a very humbling but also empowering experience. God knows who I can be. All I have to do is continue to do good things and through His help I will be doing the best.

Born to Run

I have always loved to run. For the past couple years though, I seemed to have lost the love of the run and held only to the love of the effects. Recently, I read the book Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. At the time, I thought it was an interesting read, but it didn't really add anything to my running experience. If you have not read it, I highly recommend you do. It will be at least entertaining if not enlightening. I tried occasionally to rediscover the inner child who understands the art of running, but I lacked consistency and effort. Only when I wanted to run and forget would I make an attempt. So I kept to the world's view; you would think that me of all people would remember the world is not often right. I continued to push myself to train and run harder and faster, when all I needed to do was make it easy and lighten up. I would push myself until I was injuring not only my heart, but also other organs, by sending my heart rate into the upper 200's. Yes, not good.
The point is, to truly run, you have to love running. Tonight, I decided I would just start slow, really slow, and just work myself up to speed until my heart rate sat at a nice 180. As I did this, I remembered the book and decided I might as well work on my running technique too. So, I'm moseying along, and after about 2 miles, I realize I'm running faster than I normally do and my heart rate is still only at about 140. So I jumped my speed by about 45 seconds for the next mile, making that one about a 5 minute mile. When I did this, I realized my breathing stepped it up also. And I thought, "Why doesn't my heart rate stay down? I have spectacular lungs, and I'm in better shape than most people I know." Bam. I knew why. I didn't increase my breathing when I increased my pace. Silly, right? I liked to control it and keep it nice and steady. I have literally been starving myself of oxygen. No wonder my heart rate explodes. Trying to cram whatever air it can find down those tubes. Craziness, right? Heart rate. About 150. I consciously increase my breath rate. And I'm running faster than I did the summer after ninth grade, when I could hit 4:30 for a single mile. Faster. I pump more air and my body seems to lurch forward of its own volition. Beautiful. That 4th mile was about 4 minutes. The 5th and 6th I didn't even time, but I was flying. It was incredible.
A line from the book: Easy. Light. Smooth. I was all of those, just floating over the ground.  Perfect form. That was the best feeling in the world. I was moving fast. Faster than I ever had before. The last 100 meters, I roared to the world my extreme joy. Humans are extraordinary. Which makes God that much more so. The entire time I had this goofy grin on my face. I couldn't help it. Magnificent.

Choice

The ability to choose.

This is the only thing that we truly control. That is all. Nothing else. These few words are the culmination of every scrap of knowledge I possess. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, I know this is true. So many touch on this, but few ever reach it. Millions of books. The entirety of religion. Life itself. All blundering around this: Choice.  Every moment we are choosing. Even to do nothing is a choice. Whether for good or ill consequences, every moment we are choosing.

Not many have grasped this concept fully, but those who do change the world around them. Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi,  Jesus Christ, just to name a few. The list is extensive. Take the founding fathers. "All men are created equal." In what way? Men are unequal in every single way except that each and every one holds the ability to choose. Even before this world began, the difference between Jesus and Lucifer is choice. One would have us choose, the other would not.

Your ability to choose for yourself is absolute. Throughout the ages tyrants, kings, dictators, bosses, overseers and your mother have all attempted to usurp this power, but it always fails. Why? Because you can always choose. This can only be given, not taken.

If we hold complete control over our every choice, and supremacy brings ultimate power, then choices are not only all-important but actually change... everything. The world was created at a word. We hold that same potential. Through commitment, action, choice, we can change ourselves and the world.

The Power of Music

Last night, I was in a truck with three other people and the song "Watching You" by Rodney Atkins came on the radio. That was the first time I had ever heard it and I cried the whole time oblivious to the other people in the car. Granted it was dark and they didn't notice. That was good, but those of you who know me must know I hardly ever cry. Four times in my life (in public anyway) that I can remember to date. Now what was it about this song? Well, as I sat there listening, I strongly felt the Spirit of God. It wasn't because of the guitar by itself, or the singing, or even the words. The words read by themselves are great, but only when all of these elements are combined together to be music does it carry the power of God's holy messenger. This started me thinking about how powerful and spectacular music is. Let's just leave it a that. Anyway, I really, really like this song and listening to it over and over. :)