Poetry

I had a professor in college who appreciated poetry more than any other person I've ever met.  He said that poetry is "the best words in the best order."  Not saying I'm a natural Frost, Dickinson, or Hughes, but I have written a few poems in my day.  I'm not sure why, but I felt like I should post some of them today.  So--here they are.  Disclaimer:  Poetry analysts can shove their criticisms up their butts.  I already told you I'm not a professional.

The Process

What do you do when you feel out of place,

like the seasons have left you behind?
That there are blessings deserved and promises made,
But some that you still can't quite find?
Postponing and patience and waiting,
the lessons you thought you had learned
are present and ever reminding
of some things which you thought you had earned.

What do you do when the challenge or choice

is something you don't understand?

When you don't feel the guidance or loving support,
Yet you've prayed and done all that you can?
Confusing and empty and lonely,
Wandering around as one mentally blind.
Is it righteous to act without knowing
the consequences or results you might find?


What do you do when you're striving
to serve and to make the world right?
When your back, from the pressure, is breaking
and you're running out of that internal light.
Blessings and justice and mercy,
knocked off balance like an out-of-tune song.
Beginning to consider telling the Lord how
His purposes and placements are wrong.


Shallow is the heart without trouble.
Selfish is the untested soul.
It's best that we live and face trial
as the Carpenter builds to make whole.
Breaking and tearing and mending,
with His skillful and crucified hand.
And so the faithful will let Him continue,
until they've become as “I am.”

Attributed to Him
I’ve never tried to move a mountain,
Never tried to calm the sea,
But I have tried to move myself
And calm the storms in me.


For life and time have come to show
That I don’t always get my way,
But patience shows that there’s a purpose
When I wait and grow and pray.


It’s obedience that keeps me happy
Knowledge that sets me free
It’s virtue that guides my choices
To be who He needs me to be.


It’s faith that keeps me moving
And it’s charity that heals.
It’s diligence to walk His footsteps
To feel a part of what He feels.


I’m not saying that I’m perfect
Or never doubted what I know
But that hope that creates miracles
Rests deeply in my soul.


So when it’s time to move a mountain
Or it’s time to calm the sea
He’ll be there to help me go and do
In the strength of humility.


The Widow's Gift
My Master once spoke of a widow among
All the riches and wealth of the world.
And she being humble and lowly in heart
O’er a mite all her fingers were curled.
Her gift didn’t shine as brightly
As the silver and gold on the shrine
Yet inside she whispered and knew she was right,
“What I have to give is all mine.”
She cast in the mite and glided away
Lest the crowd make a mock of her giving
But He who sees all was impressed by the coin
A payment of true wealth and living.
And so we see that the items of worth
Are neither the gold nor the mite.
The treasures of value, the widow, her heart,
Are the most precious gifts in His sight.


Fly
He asked me to go
He asked me to fly,
to spread my wings
and take the sky.


I falter to start,
I imagine I'll fail,
locked in myself,
my self-imposed jail.


I turn to the Word,
the source of all light,
the source of all peace,
the source of all right.


"Consider the lilies,"
His voice enters in,
"I am thy source,
thy guide, and thy wind."


"I made the sparrow,
and I know its fall.
Art thou not greater?
The greatest of all?"


I think on the pages,
those things which I feel.
He said it is so.
It has to be real.


He knows His creations,
and He cannot lie.
I gather myself.
I'm ready to fly.

What I Want

I was given a homework assignment, but before I tell you about it, I think we should probably go over some basic background information. Otherwise, the scenario might not make much sense.

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we have church jobs. They're called “callings.” (And, by the way, no one gets paid for their callings. All service is voluntary, even for the Prophet and Apostles in Salt Lake.) My current calling is First Counselor in the Relief Society—meaning that I have to assist the President of the Relief Society in seeing to all the spiritual and physical needs of the women in our congregation. (We call our congregations “wards” or “branches,” by the way. Mormon jargon—we have a lot of it.) I've had other callings too—Sunday school teacher, missionary, organist, activity committee, Institute council (a group for college kids), and... a lot. I've had a lot of different callings. SO, I can say—with absolute certainty—that each calling gives a person certain responsibilities within the ward/branch/congregation; and with all those responsibilities comes inspiration—to act and do and say and feel things I otherwise wouldn't. I especially felt this as a missionary when I, somehow, knew that I was saying and doing the things that Christ Himself would have done or said—and I did it in Spanish, a language I didn't speak before then. It's really an incredible experience to reside in a calling and, somehow, know how best to serve others. It's like having a sixth sense, really.

Now that we have the background information out of the way, I feel like I can get to the story. SO, last Sunday, I was in Church in Cheyenne—not my assigned ward/branch/congregation in Greeley, but it's where I grew up, so I feel just fine going there for Church from time to time. After Sacrament Meeting (erm... Communion), I followed the lines of people heading out of the Chapel and on to the Sunday school classrooms. Before I got far, the Bishop (big-wig in charge of the ward/branch/congregation) pulled me aside and said he'd want to talk with me later.... Kind of strange, especially considering that I'm not a member of that ward. So, technically, this Bishop shouldn't have to worry about me—that's for my local Bishop to do.

Anyway, because this Bishop happens to be a family friend, I agreed to speak with him. We chit-chatted about this-and-that. I filled him in on what I've been up to. Chipping away at a Master's Degree. Working as a fourth grade teacher. Trying to fulfill the duties within my own Church calling. My worry over the Sisters in my local ward who should be, but aren't, coming to Church. And then we had a conversation that, I feel, was inspired. As a Bishop, I felt it was entirely appropriate for this family friend to be asking these sorts of questions. It was what I needed to hear. I share a few insights from this dialogue with you, just in case you need to learn the same lessons that I'm learning right now.

During the course of the conversation, Bishop asked me some questions (which I'll share soon). I didn't have an answer for a lot of these questions—I thought I did, but I didn't. I feel that when I answer them, I'll be a much more put-together person. (Always room for improvement, right?) And then I got my homework assignment (which I'll also share soon).

OK, to paraphrase, here are some of the questions that came up during our chat:

• What are all of the things that are weighing on your mind? I'd say one thing. The follow-up question would always be, “And what else?” We went through all of the stresses I'm feeling right now (which aren't many, considering it's still summer vacation), until I couldn't think of any more immediately. But he persisted, “What else?” I had to think and acknowledge all of those pesky back-burner issues that I choose to keep buried and not acknowledge. Those were the issues we talked about the most, because those were the issues to which I had given the least amount of thought—they were the stresses that I allowed to fester until they became a negative part of me without me even knowing.
• What do you want? I started spouting off my goals. (Remember those?) That wasn't answering the question, though. Specificity is key here. I tried to answer with things like “I want to move back to Cheyenne someday.”... Yeah. That wasn't good enough. I needed to know which neighborhood. What the house should look like. In the case of a potential spouse, the list I'd made there didn't hold up either. “A sense of humor” wasn't good enough. I needed to be able to pin-point what kind of sense of humor. What kind of jokes would he like? Would he leave you roses around the house? Does he cook? What does he cook? I failed miserably. I realized that, when it comes down to the nuts and bolts, I have no idea what I want. And, if I don't know what I want, how can I look for it? It led us into the next question:
• What do you pray about? How specific are your prayers? Again, I thought I had this one covered, but I didn't. Again, my prayers weren't specific enough. For as long as I can remember, all I've been praying for—in regards to myself—is that I'll be an effective instrument in the Lord's hands in whatever position in which He needs me to be. I pray to be effective in my calling and sensitive to the needs of those around me. I pray for my students by name, that I'll be aware of and meet their needs. I pray for my family and friends by name and in their needs. In all areas, though, I realized I could still be more specific. I was also instructed to include myself in my prayers, because it's not selfish. (Still trying to wrap my head around that one.)
• When will you let the Lord help you with your plans? I was told that I'm going 1,000 miles and hour trying to do what the Lord has asked of me. (Not a bad thing.) Yet, because I'm focusing only on those aspects of my life, the rest of my needs and wants are unmet. I wasn't told to stop doing anything differently, because doing what I'm doing is not a bad thing. HOWEVER, as mentioned above, I haven't fully entrusted the Lord to make up the difference for those things for which I haven't had time. I haven't asked Him to meet the demands of my needs and wants. “Ask, and you shall receive,” after all.  Of course, first, I have to figure out what I want.  Exactly what I want.
• What are the fears keeping you from what you want? What are you going to do about them? We shouldn't discredit out fears—we should acknowledge them, but then we need to have the faith to confront them, even if the outcomes might be frightening in and of themselves.
  
  

What do you think? Can you answer these questions? Be honest.

Seeing that I still need a little nudge in the right direction, Bishop gave me the following assignment:

• Decide what you want for yourself. Think of different categories—future house, vacations, education, jobs, recreational activities, Mr. Right, kids, etc.—and write down specifically what you expect and want in each of those categories. (Seriously—super specific—down to what color you want the blinds in the dining room to be.  The exact height and weight of hypothetical Mr. Right.  Not just that you want to go on vacation somewhere--but when you'll go and what you'll do when you're there.) The sky's the limit. Even write down those things you think are silly or non-essential. Don't discredit anything—if it comes to mind and you want it, put it on the list. The more specific, the better. Don't feel like you're being selfish in any of these things that you want—write it all down!

So, I'm in the process of trying to piece that together. I'll tell you what, it's kind of tricky. I've never thought about what I want in such depth. I'm struggling with it. It's transitioning, I suppose, from the world of “that would be nice, but it's so unrealistic” to the reality of “I wonder how I can make this happen.” The more I write down these things that I want, the more undeserving I feel of them, but I guess that's why Bishop told me not to discredit anything—write it all down regardless.

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with my list when it's finished, but I'll be sure to let you know.

You know, just in case you need to make some lists too.