So, yesterday I woke up feeling distinctly not nauseous. It was one of those times where you’re not quite sure whether your wishful thinking is playing a trick on you; in this case, after repeated attempts to pull myself out of this oh-so-wonderful dream, I came to the conclusion that I was, indeed, better. Rejoicing, I went on my way to church and felt fine all day.
And now for a random smattering of thoughts:
Z. Lately, I’ve found a great power in being conscious of whatever trial it is I happen to be passing through. Being able to say, “I’m sick, and while I may not feel well at this moment, I know that in the near future I’ll be well again” is tremendously empowering. It’s like knowing the name of something — suddenly you have a connection, and in this case you’re far better able to endure whatever the trial is. I like to think of it as being grown-up.
Y. My roommate was telling me the other day that there were some sister missionaries in his mission who were talking to a girl about getting ready for baptism. They felt sure she was ready, but she still had some reservations. One of the sisters felt moved to share a scripture. “Can you please read 3 Nephi 3:7?” Just imagine the poor young girl’s reaction when she read that verse:
Or in other words, yield yourselves up unto us, and unite with us and become acquainted with our secret works, and become our brethren that ye may be like unto us — not our slaves, but our brethren and partners of all our substance.
X. Speaking of my roommate, the other night there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, it sounded like someone had grabbed the blinds and torn them down. I stumbled out and discovered a colony of pinto beans scattered all over our living room. Just outside the front door (next to which stood my roommate, jaw agape) was “JACK” written in beans. We haven’t seen him since then — I suspect he’s up on top of the clouds, fighting the giant.
W. From Mere Christianity, a C.S. Lewis quote:
If our expenditure on comforts, luxuries, amusements, etc., is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving away too little. If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot because our charitable expenditure excludes them.
Having read that, I can’t help but wonder if my compulsive book-buying ought not to be curbed. I’m certainly not pinched or hampered by my charitable expenditures — indeed, I hardly feel them at all. Hmm.
V. In talking with my bishop yesterday about Lulu.com and LibraryThing, a light bulb kajinged above my head. He mentioned taking his old mission reports and compiling them into a Lulu book for his family members to order. Then I realized that Lulu’s perfect for family histories. Usually a single family member would be responsible for ordering the lot of them and then getting reimbursed by everyone else (unless they happen to be the proverbial rich old uncle); this way, in contrast, anyone in the family that wants one would be able to order it themselves (cheaper, too). It’s great. My Lulu test book should be arriving soon; I’ll report on it when it comes.
U. From this Lulu idea and from ldsWebGuy’s post the other day, a question is consuming my mind: are there any other obvious ways to use all these fancy new technologies to do good? I have a feeling there’s something there just under the surface, waiting to be thought of.
T. Yesterday I added the Japanese Plan of Salvation, if anyone’s interested.
S. The other day I was sewing one of my front pockets back together. It was so much fun that I just had to sew some more. Looking around, the only thing sewable in sight was my pair of old grey mission pants, the kneecaps of which have gotten so threadbare that I feel like I’m looking at an X-ray when I sit down. “Hmm,” I thought, “I could patch them.” But with what? A second inspection revealed several pairs of old pants which I never wear. “But you can’t do that!” my Jiminy Cricket exclaimed. “You might wear them someday!” No, that wasn’t true. A few scissor-snips later, the right calf of one of them had been converted into a circular patch, a lighter grey in color. With silver thread in hand I dexterously (okay, so it wasn’t quite dexterously — I jabbed myself accidentally more than a few times) started sewing. Halfway through, I realized that I’d let the fabric slip over a bit, messing the whole thing up. It was late, so I abandoned the project for the night. But never fear, one of these days I intend to take it up again, this time planning ahead. (As for why I’d even consider wearing patched pants, do remember that I’m enamored of the mental image of a scholar in a dusty old library, and of course all serious scholars wear patched pants and suit jackets. It’s just how things are done! :P)
R. So, my interview is later today. Let me just say this: whatever happens, I’ll be okay. Now, that doesn’t mean I’m not getting my hopes up. It’s tempting to mute them, so that I won’t be devastated if I don’t get the job, but I’m becoming firmly convinced that that’s the quickest way to steal away the joy from the victory if I do get it. To succeed greatly, we have to open ourselves to the possibility of failing miserably. If, on the other hand, we don’t get our hopes up, we of course don’t have as much to lose, but we also don’t have as much to win. In the event that I don’t get this job, I’ll be down for about five minutes, but then my common-sense backup machinery will kick in and remind me that it’s not the end of the world and that I’ll be fine. In the meantime, however, I’ll be envisioning glorious success. :)
Q. I do intend to reply to all those comments y’all have left. Soon, hopefully. :)
P.S. Counting the alphabet backwards is harder than I thought. :P
[tags]C.S. Lewis, Lulu, LibraryThing[/tags]