What Would an Angel Do?

  "I prayed, and God sent you. You are His angels. But I can't change."
     Two missionaries faced a lady half out her mind, but sober. It was supposed to be a simple contact, but looking back, it was a tragedy of "what should we have done?"
     The line on the sidewalk marked a choice: to the liquor store, or to go home. With a little change bag in her hand, the lady was marked by the two boys who were so concerned about a battle she had already lost.
     "I know I'm addicted. Hope is gone, and I can't quit." She would retort at every attempt to turn her back home. They reminded her of her daughter, the desire to overcome addiction, heaven and hell. All these things, she said, were useless. She had already lost hope, and boy was she stubborn.
     Yet she stayed, listening to two strangers testify of Christ and love, of repentance. How long were they there? Were they late to an appointment? Was this a waste of time, or was this a battle they could win? Street conversations with Christ's representatives can get intense quickly.
     The impression came to both the missionaries: throw the money bag, and send her home. Neither one made a move.
     "This line" thought one missionary, "is one she will not cross."
     "It's wrong to throw the monetero. I'll not be impulsive. Better it is to show kindness, and let her make her choice." The other missionary said to himself.
     The internal battle stretched on. How long had they been standing there? Then one missionary suggested, "alright, we'll walk with you then." Thinking to set an appointment for later. She bought her liquor, walked back to that terrible sidewalk line, and said something that caused cold shivers for the young elders. The kind that an innocent child gets after doing something bad. "You two are angels... Thanks for trying."
      "Could we have stopped her?" The elders eyes filled with tears. The smoke had cleared. The lady was gone with her bottle. Who had won this battle?
   

"Now You Know How I Feel"

     Many of you experience a similar situation: every morning he's late, and keeps my little sister from getting to school on time. Then one morning he was up early, ready to go.  This time he was the one saying, "let's go! Are you ready yet?" Molly saw that it was her chance to share a piece of her frustration. She slowly found a little something to eat, then talked with me a bit, and said, "Now its my turn to make him late."
     All Molly wanted was to be understood. Its a desire every one of us has. When we look closely, most of our conversations are used to get other people to understand what we feel, want, or how we see things. Its a divine characteristic, and many people are consolidated knowing that Jesus Christ understands them. They no longer feel mistreated or alone.
     The Christlike attribute to understand people is a way we fulfill our baptismal covenant in almost every daily conversation. Alma the prophet taught before baptism:
    "and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, "

     My daily thought is this: The more we try to understand others, the more we can carry burdens with them. We seek less pity from others and more we look for opportunities to lift someone up. That is what it means to be a disciple of Christ.

Decisions Determine Destiny

     My last journal is filled up. Meanwhile I'm using an app on my phone and today the phone just won't cut it. Today my journal is THESEARCHINGQUEST, the blog I started in highschool.

     All day I've been talking to old people. Its my first day as a life insurance broker. Old people appreciate a good conversation The joy of service fills my day when I listen to their wisdom and stories, and random babbling about politics.

     When I'm old, looking back on life, what really mattered? Most people live like the world is watching.  People driving in their cars, lost in their own busywork. Does accomplishing a "to-do" list mean something?

     I think about God creating the world. He made the whole world! Yet, somehow that doesn't mean anything, if I forget why he made it.

    Tonight, as dramatic as it is, I want to decide who I want to be. There is no Rocket-scientist basketball player accountant. We choose what measure we are going to fill. "Jack of all trades, but master of none." is the statement of a failure, because I was never excellent at anything.

     The world has a lot of distractions. Each distraction can be filtered out by a dream. In Buddhism, mindfulness is accomplished as we focus our energy on the present moment. It doesn't matter what it is, so we might as well choose what we like (within righteous limits). Then we accomplish an enhanced sensibility to the spirit. That is a Buddhist Teaching (see The Heart of Buddha's Teachings, chapter 11).  

     If I focus on my main talents, and magnify them, then I will have many talents. It will take time. At these early stages of my adult life, there is only time to build a foundation.

     My best talents: Patience, Public Speaking, Snowboarding, Writing, Gospel Thinking and Conversation.
     My desired talents: guitar, skateboarding, dancing, singing
     Things I like: Short Films, Dating, Quality Movies, Reading, Movie Making, Youtube Research.

My Daily Planet Travel

Today I took my dog out to "go potty" and since I wasn't in a rush for anything, I let him sniff around until he found some grass to nibble on. Meanwhile I was listening to "The Little Prince" on audiobooks. It's a children's story of an alien boy traveling from planet to tiny planet. The breeze sounded past my ear bud. There was nobody on the street. For a moment I felt completely alone. I could have been the only person left on the planet. It was so quiet.

A Letter in the Dusty Bag

Today while cleaning the dark and dusty corners of our kitchen cabinets, I found a plastic bag full of things from my youth. Some of the schoolwork had the year 2003. Among the old drawings of Molly and Marcus and Tara I found a letter. My own name caught my eye, and a few moments later my breath became shallow. This was a letter from my birth mom to my parents.
     A few things I discovered in this letter: Max is my next blood brother at 18 years old. My mom had romantic troubles as well. She had me with some boyfriend, was divorced with 3 week old Max by an irresponsible father, and finally came through with a temple marriage. "I'm done screwing up, I promise," she said to my parents. How many times have I said that in my own life?
     She talked about not having enough time to snowboard. She talked about her marathon goals and how she runs 3 miles in the mornings. She apologized for not writing more frequently. The paper was informative and spiritual. She goes to church every Sunday, juggling all of the "to dos".
     This feeling that she is like me is strange. How much does her personality affect my decisions? If I get to know her well, will I learn things about myself? Maybe with the mistakes she's made, she can help me see my own path a little clearer.
    An illegible signature left me guessing:
     I still don't know her name.

Live Life, just not all at Once

     My Dad is my life counselor.
     My heart and mind feel at peace.
     In these last few months I've discovered what I want to do. I'll learn Chinese and probably Arabic. I'll graduate with a bachelors in international relations. One day I'll travel to China and the Middle East. One day, one year, but not this year. All my plans, in that hour talk with my Dad, were converted into a solid platform for my future. The old plans were reinforced by all the right reasons,  but that is not enough.

     Mosiah 4: 27
     And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.


     Now I more of that peace of focus from the mission. God will bless my path, no doubt. One of the commandments is to honor my parents. It doesn't mean I always have to do what they say, but it does mean I need to humbly listen to them.
     And suddenly there shines a brighter hope for the future.