Life. For me it is seems to be in Limbo. While many of my friends are signing contracts for their housing in the fall, I’m worrying about where to get my fingerprints taken. While everyone seems to be talking about what classes they should take next semester, I’m looking online at midi-length dresses. I’m stuck waiting. Waiting for June 26th. The day my life for the next 18 months begins.
So what can I do to prevent idleness? I get overwhelmed at times when I think about the challenges that lay before me, but mostly I just go on. I go to class. I do my homework—though my motivation is highly lacking ever since I opened my mission call—and I hang out with friends. Yet, my life has changed ever since I received the news I would be going to Brisbane. My outlook on many things has evolved.
For example, last weekend I took a journey to Southern Utah for my sister’s softball tournament. My parents are always raving about how magnificently beautiful St. George is. My parents were raised in Utah, and so I think it natural for them to think the vast area of nothing but rocks and a lone tree here and there is beautiful. To me it isn’t impressive. Sure it is interesting, but my definition of beauty within nature is lush greens with flowering trees blooming throughout the forests year-round. My perspective derives from being raised in the South.
After a long day of softball and having gained a nice splotchy sunburn we drove to the hotel. By now the night had settled in and everything was submerged in darkness. It would have seemed rather dreary were it not for the pecks of light that dotted the never-ending black sky. Sitting in the back seat of my parent’s car, I just stared in awe at the beautiful sky. Then something glowed up ahead, much brighter than the stars my neck was craned back to see.
It was the St. George Temple. It stood a glowing beacon amongst the desert’s night. Many thoughts flooded my mind all at once. This temple was a symbol of Heavenly Father. In the darkest night the temple still stood bright, just as in our darkest moments Heavenly Father will show us the light.
My second realization was that my parents weren’t crazy to think St. George was beautiful. Had there been a forest of my beautiful trees, the temple would have been swallowed up. It would not have shined as brightly.
Yes, going on a mission helped me not feel guilty about missing class on Friday; but it has also helped me see beauty in all God’s creations, even things I’d previously thought ugly. I challenge you, my readers, to look for the unique beauties that surround us and remember, “God don’t make no junk.” It doesn’t have to take a mission call to realize there is beauty all around.