what I really believe

Last week I read this article, part of a regular column Michael Otterson writes for the LDS Church. In the article Otterson relates how church members in Davis County, Utah were asked to help each other clean up debris from a storm and prepare for another one. On that Sunday church was canceled and neighbors gathered to help one another. Otterson describes this as "pure religion" and I couldn't agree more. I am so grateful that I belong to a church that is prudent and practical. Worship is vital to religion, but so is serving and helping the people around you. Acting on principles of faith, love, charity–that is what God put us on this earth together to do. I have never felt closer to people than when I am serving them.

I came home last Friday to find my roommates in the apartment next door. I turned the corner to see why they were there and my eyes met a large puddle (or puddles rather) of water down the hallway, in their kitchen, etc. And there were my roommates with buckets, towels, brooms–ready to get to work. I joined them, sweeping up water (not the most effective tactic, but it did the job). We don't know the girls across the hall as well as we should, but I'd like to think we share something now that is stronger than if we had spent 3 hours talking. I couldn't help but smile as I swept dirty water into a bucket. This is me, living what I believe.

Sunday I found myself among the Christmas books. Every year, no matter what other books I read, I have to include my two favorites at least a few times: The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree  and Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect. It's ironic that their titles are antitheses of each other, because they are essentially about the same thing: giving of yourself when you feel there is nothing to give. I cried as I read how Ruthie's mother, her husband away at war, cut up her wedding dress so Ruthie would have the perfect Angel's dress to wear in the Christmas pageant. I cried as I read of the Queen who saw Small Pine's true heart, that he was more beautiful than all of the other trees because of who he was, not what he looked like. I've read these books hundreds of times, but this time their messages hit me more poignantly than before. More than anything, God wants us to give of ourselves. He wants us to fall, to be vulnerable, to love. When we love others, we love Him with a love deeper and more transcendent than before.


Happy Christmas,
M