Now the joy of (Tova) was so great even that (she) was full; yea, (she) was swallowed up in the joy of (her) God, even to the exhausting of (her) strength; ...
Now was not this exceeding joy? Behold, this is joy which none receiveth save it be the truly penitent and humble seeker of happiness.
When I searched "High School Crowd" this was the first image that was shown. How many people in this picture look like they aren't lonely?
I know that I have friends. I know that I have people who love me. So why do I sometimes feel lonely**?
What is it that makes you feel like you're all alone in a crowd of people? (**These thoughts don't apply to clinical depression. I'm not a doctor and can't give any advice on that besides to go and see a doctor who can help you find hope again.)
I believe that what we need isn't just people around us or even people chatting with us. Mother Theresa said, "The hunger for love is much harder to remove than the hunger for food."
When I'm feeling lonely, the questions I ask are, "Why doesn't anyone like me?" "Why doesn't anyone love me?"
I really enjoyed this video:
My mom also shared that she had been feeling lonely. In church, that week, our Bishop (the leader of our local congregation) stood up and shared that when we feel friendless we should befriend others. When we feel like no one cares we should go out a care for others. When we feel unloved we should give love to others.
Why would that make a difference? There are many reasons, but the one that stood out most to me was this; Heavenly Father is the person who loves us the most. He designed everything for our happiness. When we are serving others we are opening up the door of our hearts so that we can receive His great love.
I know that we can feel that love. He gives it freely and will always give it.
A couple weeks ago, we adopted two little kittens: Tsunami and Noemi ("No-Amy"; it's Hungarian). We were heading out of town, so on Wednesday we dropped them off with their supplies at a friends house. Just as the second group of us were heading out, the friend called us saying that Noemi was looking sick, and that we should come pick her up.
I thought that it might just be the motherly instincts of the friend seeing things that weren't there, but when I went in to pick up the little kitten, she was laying stretched out on her towel while her sister climbed around her. The friend told us Noemi had diarrhea, and needed to stay hydrated.
For the two-hour drive I cradled the prone little body in my hands, feeding her water through a baby dropper one drop at a time. I watched for each sign of improvement: She blinked! She kicked her leg! She rolled over!
While I chose to take these as good signs, I also knew that they may also be signs of her final struggle.
Finally, we made it to Andover where we'd be spending the weekend. I handed off the little kitty to her owner, my nine-year-old sister. At first they took the cats (we'd brought both) to the barn, but then in order to give Noemi more water more often, our friends let us bring them into an outer room in their house.
Despite almost constant care, little Noemi died that night while I was holding her.
As she started leaving, I burst out crying. I'd worked for hours to keep this little kitten alive. Why couldn't she stay?
Comforting me, my mom said, "At least we were able to give her love and a home before she died."
Another woman told of her experience. She was finally fulfilling her dream to go see Mother Theresa. When she landed in India, she went off in search of the famous nun. The woman was directed to a hospital. When she entered it, she found herself in a long hall. Along one wall were 10 or so rocking chairs, and on the other side were dozens of babies lying on the ground.
The door at the other end opened and Mother Theresa walked in followed by some nurses. As she slowly advanced towards the woman, Mother Theresa would point at a baby and then point at a nurse, saying "That one. You. ... That one. You. ..." Obediently, the nurse would pick up the child and rock it in a rocking chair.
At last, Mother Theresa was standing in front of the woman. But as the woman opened her mouth to say something, Mother Theresa pointed at a baby. "That one. You."
Without another word, she left the hospital, leaving the woman who'd come so far to meet her.
Stunned, the woman stood there for a moment. Then she angrily began to leave. "Wait!" a nurse called. "You have to help."
"I'm not a nurse, I don't know what to do." The woman protested.
Quietly, the nurse explained. "There isn't enough care and medicine to save all of these babies. Mother Theresa knows which of these babies are going to die today. Our job is to rock them, and make sure they feel human love before they leave this world."
The woman looked back at the little baby that Mother Theresa had assigned her to love. Then she went over, picked it up, and then rocked it until it slept.
By that time, she needed to rush to catch her plane home, and she never saw Mother Theresa again. But she said that it wasn't a wasted trip. She learned what she needed to learn.
Mosiah 16: 7 And if Christ had not risen from the dead, or have broken the bands of death that the grave should have no victory, and that death should have no sting, there could have been no resurrection. 8 But there is a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ. 9 He is the light and the life of the world; yea, a light that is endless, that can never be darkened; yea, and also a life which is endless, that there can be no more death.
One of my dear, dear friends recently started a blog called "The Recovering Perfectionist." In it, she shares her story. She gave me permission to share it here:
A couple of years ago I began to worry about my appearance. I looked in the mirror and pointed out- and even made up- countless flaws. I compared myself to others and I became distressed. I’ve always had a perfectionistic nature, and I believed the countless lies around me that I was never enough. Little by little I become more obsessed with how I looked, and I saw food as something bad- and I thought that the less you had the better. The media was saying that carbs were bad, and fat foods were bad, and sugar was bad. And in my attempt to do everything perfectly, I started to count calories and restrict my intake. I didn’t realize that little by little I was leading myself deeper into a pit of destructive mental habits. Pretty soon food became my fear and my enemy. I became an unhealthy weight and my family was concerned. I was miserable. I felt trapped. False body perception wasn't the only thing that contributed to my eating disorder. I indulged in this false sense of control. But never were things more out of control. I couldn't go to activities with friends for fear that they would try to get me to eat certain things that weren't on my list of acceptable foods. If I didn't exercise one day I felt like a complete failure. My family began to notice that I would make excuses to skip family meals. Meanwhile these unhealthy habits took control over more and more portions of my life. My mom tried to tell me that she thought I had a problem, but I was in denial. "A mental disorder? No, not me- I was fine." I told myself. But deep inside I knew I wasn't fine. I was cold, dizzy, moody, sick and stressed out all the time. My hair was falling out in frighteningly big amounts.I was terrified. How had I immobilized myself in such a way? Finally, I admitted with devastation that I really did have a problem. That was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but it was the beginning of a new freedom in my life. My mom and I constructed a healthy meal plan and I stopped exercising to give myself a chance to recover. The road has been difficult, but so rewarding. I share my feelings with my mom, who is always gives me further light and knowledge. I also decided to visit with a counselor weekly, even though I was gaining weight and doing better, because I still was having some irrational fears and concerns. This really helps me to see what skills I can work on and how I can achieve better self confidence. I share my story as a message of hope. We can and will win this war. Whether it be a battle of depression, mental illness, addiction- or any other thought habit holding us back. These wars of the mind can be overcome.
Now you may think that to all of her friends this was obvious. She describes how she became unhealthily thin and was avoiding friend gatherings; but the truth is... I had no idea. The way I saw my dear friend was as a sweet, gorgeous, talented young woman and a wonderful friend. I had no clue that she was struggling with an eating disorder.
Please be aware of this epidemic. My friend has some great resources on her blog and there are other places out there where you can also get help, or where your friends can get help.
“Your Heavenly Father loves you—each of you. That love never changes. It is not influenced by your appearance, by your possessions, or by the amount of money you have in your bank account. It is not changed by your talents and abilities. … God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve love. It is simply always there” ~Thomas S Monson
Oh my goodness. Talk about divine help. I just finished a long, exhausting day. Got onto my email, and what did I find? A list of more things to do :S.
Also in my email, I found this quote:
"My dear brothers and sisters, there will be days and nights when you feel overwhelmed, when your hearts are heavy and your heads hang down. Then, please remember, Jesus Christ, the Redeemer, is the Head of this Church. It is His gospel. He wants you to succeed. He gave His life for just this purpose. He is the Son of the living God. And He will help you.” —President Dieter F. Uchtdorf
The very presence of the quote in my inbox was a manifestation of His awareness of me. I'm so grateful for the Holy Spirit and inspired leaders who are able to send us comfort and guidance.
As I was scrolling through the Church's Google Plus page, I saw a bunch of posts about Prayer. I thought I'd join in, and share my own thoughts.
One of the most spiritual experiences of my life happened during a prayer.
I was thirteen-- super insecure and still learning about how special I was. There was this girl I knew who was almost exactly the same age as I was but seemed to have everything. She was beautiful, liked, had a gorgeous singing voice, and seemed to have great spiritual strength. I thought to myself. "How can I ever be important to anyone when they have her?" I was constantly comparing myself to her.
One night, I broke down into tears. Laying in bed, I folded my arms and asked Heavenly Father if I was loved, if I was important to Him. I didn't hear a voice. I didn't see an angel. What happened was my entire being was filled with light and love. It felt like I was recieving a huge hug from my Heavenly Father. Even now, five years later, just remembering that night and that prayer brings back that feeling.
I know that Heavenly Father communicates with us through prayer. We are able to feel connected to Him on a very personal level.
It is through prayer that I was able to discover my self-worth and feel of the love Heavenly Father has for me. I know He has it for you, too.
What a beautiful Easter Video!! He is Here. In this little hotel room, when I'm far away from home and taking care of a rambunctious 4 year old at 11 pm He is still Here. I can feel the Spirit as I watch this video, and I hope you can, too.
(The next day...) I was thinking about this post during sacrament meeting and put together these thoughts. He is Here. Here in this Church. With the small babies, elderly couples, and the families. With the boys and girls, gentlemen and ladies. He is in this Room. He sees the sunflowers and hibiscus, the beautiful brown tiles, the dark blue seats. He is in the Music. As we sing His praises He joins our song. He comes closer to us than ever before. He comes through the Spirit. Comes to our hearts, to our minds. And we are able to feel His presence-- His Love. The Love that took Him to the garden. The Love that brought Him up the hill. The Love that carried Him to the Cross. His friends mourned Him and buried Him. They saw His body, but He was not there. Three days passed. "He is not here." No, He was no longer in the tomb. No longer in death
Please send at least this video to anyone you know or feel may be suffering. Please know that people love you and are praying for you. I know that angels are looking down at you, and cheering you on. It may seem bleak and hopeless, but as you open your heart, God will pour light into your life, and you can make it out of your dark places.
