How June Begins

It’s an unusually cool morning. Seminary this week is going to prove to be a little turbulent; today was a little rough, with the students hyper and distracted and loving each other’s company to the point of seeming to forget they were in seminary. I observed some glimmers of redirection, and I tried keeping everyone on track, but I sensed a little defeat today. Hang in there, guys. Let’s finish strong.

I mistakenly took the D train at 59th Street on my way home. I didn’t realize it until I was at the 155th Street stop. Earphones securely plugged into my ears and blaring catchy tunes while I concentrated on the day’s crossword puzzle and sudoku. I got off at the Yankee Stadium stop and backtracked to 145th Street, where I transferred to the uptown A.

I actually got into bed at 10:30 last night, expecting to fall asleep relatively quickly. I had dinner and belated but love-infused birthday brownies with one of my favorite families yesterday after church. Somehow I managed to spend almost five hours with them. I kinda didn’t want to go home to my empty apartment; my roommates are out of town. I walked through Fort Tryon Park. It was around sunset, the park was beautiful and green and a slight breeze swayed the trees, and all sorts of emotions washed over me, and my soul was a filter and kept the bigger chunks.

I reached home and unlocked the door hoping someone else would be there. No one. I sent a few texts to friends. Watched a little bit of television. Got ready for bed.

Said my prayers, and actually felt grateful no one else was home, because then I got to pray aloud. There’s a different power in uttering prayers. Not necessarily better, but for me it helps me focus and organize all my scrambled thoughts and emotions. Not that the Lord doesn’t already know.

I lay in bed, recounted the day. Cried a lot, sent a few more texts to friends. Cried a bit more, kind of hoping the crying would lead to sleep, but it wasn’t doing it quickly enough. Maybe I got to sleep after midnight.

Started Google chatting with some friends this morning. Here’s part of one conversation:

me:  got my bishop to give me a blessing
friend:  oh good!
me:  yeah. really good
friend:  peace and clarity in abundance?
me:  peace. and clarity. the most bizarre confirmation that my will is maybe starting to line up with the Lord’s a little
kinda shocking to me
friend:  hey that is great!
me:  incredibly humbling

I wish I could articulate better what I’m going through. Little quotable snippets by C.S. Lewis or Elder Neal A. Maxwell come to mind. Also, a statement the commencement speaker made at Becky’s graduation applies, if indirectly: Something about reading to learn, and writing to discover. So maybe writing could extend or include the experiences or processes about which we write. Maybe as words appear on the screen as we type or as ink marks paper, thoughts literally materialize. Things happen.

Maybe I think of writing in terms of praying aloud. At least where power is concerned.

A little discussion.

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