Just Do It

Good golly miss Molly what a sneaky thing to do! I have got SO much on my list. I have a pantload of letters that need writing, a pantload of people to go visit, a pantload of studying to do, and a load of pants that need to be done. It's a great day for a Pday!

I am still enjoying my area thoroughly. The members take extremely good care of us. Today I think I resolved that I am a better sports' spectator than one who play sports. Today we went to play soccer with the SpanAms in the mission and I can honestly say I tried! Darn near broke my foot by I learned I'd be better off watching than playing. I've seen the same with football and basketball. Especially on a professional level. There has been a few times when we'd try to set up an appointment with an alligator or less-active member and they'd tell us they'd love to meet if we come watch the game with them... I confess I really, really enjoy watching football games and ESPECIALLY when BSU is playing. But the season is over now so there's a lot less of that. And there has been an instance or two where someone would invite us over for a game and have drinks and pizza and the whole nine yards...unless of course it's a first down, then it would be ten yards.

Actually my last "game" was on Thursday. We were riding through a neighborhood and the 9-year old kid - Parker - of one of our members and his buddy were playing football in a strip of grass between the sidewalk and somebody's fence, probably 10 feet wide and a 100 feet long, if that. To that kid though, it was as real a field as the Smurf Turf. He had EVERYTHING figured out. He had endzones and yard lines marked out according to fenceposts and the few scrawny trees that were planted there. For a kickoff tee he had a crappy old orange cone - the short ones like what they use for marking boundaries in soccer. Goal posts were trees. This kid had everything DOWN and he knew more about the game that I think I ever will. We stopped and started to play with them. It was TCU - us - and BSU - them... I gotta say I haven't had that much fun since I was a little girl. It was a RIOT! We'd try to give them the benefit of the doubt and let them have the ball even when they'd drop it or mess up the score so they'd be winning but Parker would have none of it. "First and 10 at the 47 yard line", "No I can't count that! The bottom of the goalpost is the top of the tree and since we can't kick that high we'll go for the two-point conversion", "Try again, that was an incomplete interception", "Ha! 2nd down. You can't cross that line or else it's offsides", "That's a penalty for pass interferance". Holy balls. This kid was the legitimate deal. The day after we went to Dick's sporting goods and I bought Parker a real kickoff tee so they wouldn't have to use those stupid cones. I gave it to him on Sunday and he made me promise to come back and play sometime. His mom had said that the next day his friend - who's the son of less-active and partmember family who we'll go to see soon - was BEGGING Parker to call the missionaries and invite them over to play. Yeeeeah..... I'm super stoked.

Umm this next part is kinda a tangent subject, compared to the usual mood of my letters but there's a thing or two I'd like to say. I feel I know that there is someone who reads my letters who is feeling a sense of detatchment. There's someone who feels lost, unknowing, uncertain, frustrated, miserable, angry... I want whoever that is to know that it's ok. I recall a time in my life when I was the same. I hated the world. I doubted the existence of God, or any supreme being for that matter. I felt the Church was the tradition of my forfathers and I wanted nothing to do with it. I used to do the wrong things deliberately in an attempt to show the world I could not be controlled and I was the master of my own reality. I was sick and tired of being told what to do. I was sick and tired of people preaching at me. I was sick and tired or going to church. I was sick and tired of going to school. I was sick and tired of being told how to solve my problems and sick and tired of knowing that those who told me these things were right. I was sick and tired of feeling that shame and guilt that comes from doing what I know is wrong. I was sick and tired and knowing my faults and knowing that I wasn't living up my own expectations and the expectations of my parents and peers. After a while I was so sick and tired of just being sick and tired. Quite frankly I wanted to die, and I thought about it more than I should have. The only time I felt alright with life was when I was at work or around other people who didn't have high standards so I could let my standards fall and no one would care. Regardless, at the end of the day, I was miserable. I hated myself.

I found I could end this misery by adopting - and ACTING on - the Nike logo slogan "Just do it." I always knew what was right and I always knew what I had to do it was just about DOING it! Now, it didn't happen over night. I made little improvements here and there and I'm still to this day making little improvements here and there. I started - consciously and knowingly - with the things I already knew, like praying. I didn't pray religiously like at every meal and every morning and every night but I prayed whenever I thought about it. If I was on the road, I'd say a prayer out loud to myself. If I was at work I'd say one in my head. As I gradually got into the habit, I began to pray on my knees at night. Things I'd pray for? I'd begin by thanking Heavenly Father definitively for everything I could think of and then I'd humbly ask him for things I need, namely the strength to carry on and the strength to resist temtation. I remember specifically a prayer I made asking if God was even there. Needless to say He responded positively to that one. I'd make a special point to pay attention to how I felt before, during, and after my prayers. Answers often came in a feeling of calm, or a feeling of security. Thoughts I hadn't thought before would cross my mind. It's in our hearts and in our minds that the Holy Ghost talks to us. It was a start.

Slowly I'd progress to obeying my parents, striving harder to choose the right, I began reading my scriptures - and for the first little while, just a verse or two a day - and reading church magazines, I'd focus more on how I could improve instead of dwelling on my weaknesses and sins, I cleaned up my language, I'd go to church IF ONLY because it's a commandment, and the list goes on. I had a dream once I was in the bottom of this great big hole in the ground. There was a man outside this hole who would constantly shovel dirt into the hole on top of me. Instead of allowing him to bury me and make the hole my grave, as I had been for years, I made the choice to shake the dirt off and stand on it, eventually building up enough to where I could climb out. To my surprise, the man that was throwing dirt at me wasn't a malicious butthead but instead it was myself. I climbed from the pit and I saw an identical clone of "me" but he was who I wanted to become. He was spiritual and strong and wise - and devilishly handsome, I might add.

I don't tell you this to brag or even for everyone to see the progress I've made. This has NOTHING to do with me. If anything, it's a real-life possibility to whoever it is out there that's struggling. I tell you this so you know that you're not the only one. It's somthing I did - I did! The world's once greatest failure himself! - and therefore it's something I KNOW you can do too. There is hope. There is an answer. You've just gotta do it. I have faith that you can. I don't know who you are, but day and night for a little over a week now, I pray and have fasted for you... God be with you.

All my love,

tay