This morning I got a ride to my new Ward with a man I’ve known for a good 18 hours. As I entered into the lecture hall which doubles as a chapel on a weekly basis, I see a room fllled to the brim with nice haircuts, slim-style sweaters, perfectly fitted dresses, and anything that has ever been on sale at H&M. There were two special musical numbers, one featuring a recorder and the other a gorgeous piano solo. The brief talks were sculpted beautifully and featured the right balance of humor and spiritual experience. Couples looking almost too ideal hold hands while singing “Behold! A Royal Army!” And I come to a rapid realization that I am not in Jerome, Idaho anymore.
Welcome to the start of the newest (yet not so new) and most anticipated chapter of my life. Here, surrounded by people who look impossibly complete, is my new home. Attending Brigham Young University was my dream growing up; part in love for the gospel and part in admiration of my siblings whose paths went through the church school. I lived that dream vividly for 8 months then took a hiatus to serve the Lord. Yesterday my sister and brother-in-law lovingly plopped me into an apartment filled with my roommates’ things, but not my actual roommates. With time to myself, I have been left to think that this may not be the same dream I had long ago.
For starters, it isn’t the same vision I had of myself when I came home from my mission. With the instilled faith of an Elder, I sketched a Utopian Richard. Six months after returning, I dreamt of being halfway through my sophomore year, catching a wave of hard work to straight A’s, most likely with a girlfriend, definitely owning a car, and soaking in a Christmas break.
In case you haven’t been following my life, that’s not the case. Instead, I lost much of my funding for college, so I took an extra semester to work, which leaves me crashing into an already set social spectrum, used to the easily lovable, down-to-earth YSA of Southern Idaho. My work lulled me into an affection for the smell of silage. The car which I devoutly cared for lost its fight and left me with my feet for transportation. After some tough luck I remain single. And I was so longing for my idealistic collegiate life that I’m spending a week of Christmas break in Provo, 4 hours closer but still a week away from what I’d really like to happen. Perhaps this version of me is better described as Bizarro Buckets.
However, with the undaunted faith of discipleship, I still trust this is all part of God’s plan for me. Because if it wasn’t, then I would be miserable. I’d hate to live a life where you believed or knew you were off track. To me that would be true dystopia.
While sitting in this morning’s sacrament meeting, feeling a little underdressed maybe for the first time in my life, a thought budded in my ponderings. “Humility is WAY underrated.”
Hey, that’s right. Being a young single adult is an awful time of life to be humble. It’s something that God has been kicking into my head for the past years, but especially the past few months. In my early teens recognition of my own vanity and pride shook me to the core and devastated my self-worth. It took a while to realize imperfection was accepted so long as I improved.
Tomorrow is a universal beginning for everyone, but why not make it a personal beginning for me? Sit down. Be humble. You don’t have to be the best, you just have to be your best. It’s easy to distort proper perspective. More important than what I’m wearing at church is that I’m actually in church. My social life at BYU isn’t as impactful as the fact that I am going to BYU. Don’t have money? At least I got brains! And family. And true friends. And hope. That doesn’t sound too bad at all. So with the next phase of life staring me down, and I’m not where I’d thought I’d be at this moment, I should think, “You have what you need.”
Humility is way underrated.
Welcome to the start of the newest (yet not so new) and most anticipated chapter of my life. Here, surrounded by people who look impossibly complete, is my new home. Attending Brigham Young University was my dream growing up; part in love for the gospel and part in admiration of my siblings whose paths went through the church school. I lived that dream vividly for 8 months then took a hiatus to serve the Lord. Yesterday my sister and brother-in-law lovingly plopped me into an apartment filled with my roommates’ things, but not my actual roommates. With time to myself, I have been left to think that this may not be the same dream I had long ago.
For starters, it isn’t the same vision I had of myself when I came home from my mission. With the instilled faith of an Elder, I sketched a Utopian Richard. Six months after returning, I dreamt of being halfway through my sophomore year, catching a wave of hard work to straight A’s, most likely with a girlfriend, definitely owning a car, and soaking in a Christmas break.
In case you haven’t been following my life, that’s not the case. Instead, I lost much of my funding for college, so I took an extra semester to work, which leaves me crashing into an already set social spectrum, used to the easily lovable, down-to-earth YSA of Southern Idaho. My work lulled me into an affection for the smell of silage. The car which I devoutly cared for lost its fight and left me with my feet for transportation. After some tough luck I remain single. And I was so longing for my idealistic collegiate life that I’m spending a week of Christmas break in Provo, 4 hours closer but still a week away from what I’d really like to happen. Perhaps this version of me is better described as Bizarro Buckets.
However, with the undaunted faith of discipleship, I still trust this is all part of God’s plan for me. Because if it wasn’t, then I would be miserable. I’d hate to live a life where you believed or knew you were off track. To me that would be true dystopia.
While sitting in this morning’s sacrament meeting, feeling a little underdressed maybe for the first time in my life, a thought budded in my ponderings. “Humility is WAY underrated.”
Hey, that’s right. Being a young single adult is an awful time of life to be humble. It’s something that God has been kicking into my head for the past years, but especially the past few months. In my early teens recognition of my own vanity and pride shook me to the core and devastated my self-worth. It took a while to realize imperfection was accepted so long as I improved.
Tomorrow is a universal beginning for everyone, but why not make it a personal beginning for me? Sit down. Be humble. You don’t have to be the best, you just have to be your best. It’s easy to distort proper perspective. More important than what I’m wearing at church is that I’m actually in church. My social life at BYU isn’t as impactful as the fact that I am going to BYU. Don’t have money? At least I got brains! And family. And true friends. And hope. That doesn’t sound too bad at all. So with the next phase of life staring me down, and I’m not where I’d thought I’d be at this moment, I should think, “You have what you need.”
Humility is way underrated.
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