facebook fast.

god seems to always know exactly what you need right when you need it. remember when i got my mission call, and i was completely surprised that i was called to serve in brazil? yeah, me too. i'm still learning the reasons why i went there little by little. one huge reason was to help me learn how to love others openly and deeply. when you're on a mission, you tend to develop that if you're really applying the savior's teachings in your everyday life.

however, there is something special to be said about brazilians -- they be lovin' on people, man! seriously, i could enter virtually any home or talk to any random person on the street and immediately feel their love for me before i could sense myself giving off loving vibes to them. it wasn't a race or anything, but, for them, it's second nature to be genuinely interested in each other's wellbeing. they love you for you and want to see you successful. i have been actively working on not forgetting that since coming home in may. i love connecting with people and listening to their their hopes and dreams, their struggles and triumphs...all of the things that make them the way they are. people are special and fascinating, and they're all children of a loving heavenly father. how awesome is that?

about midway through february, i started getting the feeling that i needed to connect more deeply with the people around me. also, i needed to focus more on my homework and my job. i'd been spending a lot of time on facebook and other things that could have been spent being more productive academically, spiritually, and socially (in a face-to-face way). i felt like i needed to give more attention to the people i love who are close by and also to my heavenly father and his son, jesus christ. that's probably the relationship that needed the most strengthening -- the one between me and the lord. i'd been receiving counsel from him often, but i felt like i needed more. in order to receive more, that obviously meant i would have to give more. it would require a sacrifice on my part.

well, a couple of sundays ago, after praying to know what i needed to do to focus more and have a clearer, more personal line of communication with my savior, the answer came to stay off facebook. that meant get it off my phone, and don't go on in any form. at first, i thought i would stay off for a day. that turned into two, then three, and then 11. and not just facebook. some of the music i love, too, ended up being put away temporarily or permanently. most of the hip hop, rock, r&b, funk/soul that i love didn't seem to help me really focus on the purpose of my fast. i've been listening to a lot of spiritual music over the past week and a half. a couple of shows i really like had to go, too, because i knew they would detract from the purpose of my fast. the cool thing is that after a couple of days, i didn't really miss those things as much as i thought i would. it was freeing because i saw how much i could accomplish and how good i could feel without those things. i felt more in tune with where god was leading me and wanted to tell me. that is always excellent.

so, here are the highlights of my fast. enjoy!

i asked an older couple out on a date, and they accepted.

i would love to say that this sentence isn't what it sounds like, but it is. i totally asked them out. there is, thankfully, a story behind this that i'm sure you're dying to know. so, i like to go to the temple on saturdays. it's one of the highlights of my week. over the christmas break, i notice that i have a certain temple worker performing the ordinances in a few sessions that i am also in. his name is brother smith*. his jovial, charming, smily demeanor immediately catches my attention and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. being around him makes me feel like i am around the savior himself. plus, i never knew either of my grandfathers well, so having this maybe-80-year-old temple worker around makes me feel like i am finally some sweet man's granddaughter that he is proud of.

brother smith loves me as much as i love him. he grins and makes comments about the "incredible, talented, wonderful, beautiful sister jones" when i come to do a session with him. and then we smile at each other as we perform the ordinances, knowing we're doing the lord's work in the lord's house. one time, he even lets a giggle slip out, and i think it is the cutest thing for days. you should hear me explaining this sweet older man to my roommates. i sound like a blushing 13-year-old telling them about how i hope i will see him every week when i go to the temple.

brother smith has some health problems, as is common with age. i notice that his white temple clothes sometimes have blood stains on them. his head has a huge scab on it, maybe from a surgery or something health-related. i ache to be able to reach out to him in some way -- a way that is outside of the temple. i don't know how to go about it, though, so i let the feeling sit for a couple of weeks. sunday night, on the eve of the fast, the idea comes to ask if i could come to his house, prepare a meal, and spend time with him. i remember that i'd seen a wedding band on his left hand, so i know he is married. i'm like, "oh, perfect! i can learn from him and his wife!" the holy ghost prods me to move forward in a nike slogan-esque manner -- just do it!

monday (2/18), i buy a thank you card. inside, i express my gratitude for his service and how it's blessed my life. i then add, "would it be possible for me to come over and make a meal for you and your wife? i've been told i'm a good cook and would love to share my talents. give me a call at ###-####" it sounds like a pick-up line in context, which is funny because i'm not that bold with men my own age. i laugh, however, and keep it as it is. he'll probably laugh, too, knowing him.

tuesday (2/19), i stop by the temple after class to drop my card off because i'm not sure if i'll actually run into brother smith on saturday due to work obligations. i walk up to the information desk and say, "hi, i have a card for a temple worker i usually see on saturdays. i really like him!" and then i grin from ear to ear. as soon as the words are out of my mouth, i think, "gosh, that totally sounded creepy and weird. well, it is what it is. yolo." okay, i don't really think yolo, but it is along those lines. in retrospect, adding, "oh, don't worry, he's gotta be like 80!" wouldn't have really fixed the situation. the temple workers look at me with this smile of curiosity but agree to guide the card where it needs to go. i pray like crazy that the card finds its way into the hands of this special temple worker.

on sunday, i wake up from a nap and hear my phone ringing. i clear my throat a few times to get all of the grogginess/sleepiness out before answering it.
me: *very perkily* hello?
person: hello, is this sister jones?
me: yes, it is. who is this?
person: why, this is brother smith!
me: *inwardly* o!m!g!o!m!g!o!m!g! *outwardly* oh, hello, brother smith! how are you?
he thanks me for my card, calling it "delightful" and an "answer to a prayer." oh, do you know how deliciously good that makes me feel? just oodles and oodles of good. we set up a time to have lunch.

tuesday is the day. the smiths suggest going to golden corral, which makes so much sense. so, we go to golden corral. as i wait for them in the lobby, i'm a bit nervous. i check my hair and my makeup and everything to make sure i look presentable. they walk in. i meet brother smith's other half: a chic, classy, and fabulous woman who reminds me a lot of my own mother. she calls our young, attractive waiter "sweet thing," which gets him waiting on her hand and foot. we eat, chat, laugh, and bond. among other things, i learn that they have served three (3) (tres) (trois) senior missions together -- one in south africa, one in new zealand, and one in england. crazy awesome, right? they remember all of the funny and spiritual highlights of their missions so vividly. i am totally impressed. i mean, i am already nervous/excited around them like a starstruck fan, but then it increases with each mention of a mission they went on.

there is discussion of a second date, in which i will actually cook for them and probably ask to see all of their mission pictures, pictures of their children, their wedding album, and anything else i can get my hands and ears on. and i'll try to snag a picture with them since i forget in all of my excitement on tuesday. i smile all the way home. i think about calling them that night, but then i'm like, "no, don't be too eager. wait a few days and then call." it's funny that i'm reacting this way to them, but i love it.

*name changed.

i interviewed my dad about aging and death.

for my aging and development class, i have to interview someone over 65. i immediately think of my father, who loves golden corral like brother and sister smith. on presidents' day, i go home to talk to him. i ask him if i can interview him, and he seems intrigued by the idea. i tell him i'll interview him in about a half hour. a half hour later, i'm in the basement, still compiling the list of questions i want to ask him. he comes downstairs and asks if i'm ready to interview him. "almost," i say. about five minutes later, he asks again. "i'll be upstairs in just a second," i say.

i go upstairs, knock on his bedroom door, and he invites me in to take a seat. he's sitting in his recliner, where i usually see him. i take a seat across from him and open up my laptop. this is an amusing and weird situation. i've never interviewed my dad like this before. i ask him a series of questions. after processing the questions, he answers simply and without reservations. i get to the question, "what is the most frustrating thing about aging?" he replies, "nothing." i wait to see if he wants to expound on his answer. nothing. "just nothing?" i ask. "just nothing," he replies. i'm a bit surprised, i must admit.

my last question concerns what he wishes he could tell his 25-year-old self. he speaks of the importance of patience. i look up at the mirror that hangs next to us. i see the two of us. we're both sitting in a rather relaxed position, yet we maintain this certain poise. we're both alert and attentive. he looks more reflective, and i have a small smile on my face. i realize that we're much more alike than i previously thought. we are both observers. we are both thinkers. these are good qualities, and i realize that my dad has more information that i can learn than i had previously thought.

i bawled at a memorial service for a fallen soldier.

after a night of feeling directionless on thursday (2/21), i tell god, "i want to do your will. i've been focusing on what i want, and i know it. here i am; i'm your servant. tell me what you want me to do, and i'll do it. i promise." the next morning, i go in to do research for one of my professors, like i usually do, and i log onto my university's website. on the home page, there is a notice for a memorial for a former student and air force pilot who was shot down in his plane while defending people fleeing from the taliban. normally, i would not feel the desire to stray from my normal routine to attend any event i'd just learned about. this friday, i feel like i have to go. i feel like i need to learn something there and honor this man who died for peace and liberty. i leave my research meeting early and hurry over to the service.

the service is for captain scott p. pace. he died on june 6, 2012.

the auditorium is filled with cadets, former squad members, and other people with military titles that i don't remember, even though my family is filled with former and current members of the us armed forces. it's also filled with grateful civilians who appreciate the service of this great man. and he really was a great man. his father gives a moving biographical sketch of his son, struggling, at moments, through tears that scream for the earthly return of his oldest son. he mentions how his son served an honorable lds mission in argentina, went to my university and then west point, loved sports, majored in nuclear engineering, and was scheduled to start at my university's mba program last fall.

he speaks of how scott was in tune with the spirit. one of his leaders said he was the person most like the honorable book of mormon military leader, captain moroni, that he'd ever known. i smile with pride; i love me some captain moroni, so any comparison to him says a lot about someone. scott prayed for those he led like another book of mormon captain, helaman, by praying that all of the servicemen would return in safety. he sought to preserve life in all situations, relying on the spirit to impress him with the right way to handle troubling situations. people would ask him, "how can you have the spirit in war?" he would respond, "how can you not prepare yourself with the spirit before war?" amen. hearing about the kind of person that scott was, i feel like that dude is my brother. we belong to the same human family and, more importantly, the family of god.

a pilot friend of scott's flew out from ft. bragg in north carolina (where my family was stationed for a few years during my childhood, i'm proud to say!) to be able to honor scott and meet his family. he says, "you know, i've picked up my pen and paper to write to you all a few times, but it didn't seem right. i wanted to be able to meet you and hug you all personally and tell you how much i love your son." then, he hugs scott's mom, dad, brother, and sister.

right here, my friends, is where i lose it. tears start flowing, and i can't stop. it is that raw emotion, that vulnerability and confession that he truly connected and got attached to scott that gets me. i think of my professor who said, "people act like attachment to people is bad. that is stupid. we need each other to be able to grow." i think about how that week i really had been craving and loving attachment with other people. i can feel the depth of that friend's relationship with scott. i have already established that he is my brother, after all.

his family is presented with a plaque honoring scott's service. one rotc leader says that those who make it to 2nd lieutenant at the university are inducted into "helaman's 2,000" because of their leadership capacities. scott was one of those, and, like the 2,000 stripling warriors, scott knew his faith because his mother knew it. scott's mom gives a small smile, and my waterfall of tears begin again. because scott is my brother, his mother becomes my mother, and i think about how my own mother would struggle at a memorial service for any of her children. scott's brother becomes my brother, scott's sister becomes my sisters. scott becomes my brother or my brother-in-law or my father. i feel sorry for the guy sitting beside me because, by this point, i am a hot blubbering and sniffling mess attempting to wipe my nose and eyes without tissues.

the family comes down the aisle to go to the memorial hall, where scott's name is now engraved with the other fallen soldiers. they pass by my tear-stained face, and his mom gives me an appreciative smile. i know she understands me because she is my sister. the waterfall tears resume. i feel their pain and also their joy in knowing they will reunite with their son again one day.

i watched my little sister receive her mission call.

wednesday night (2/27), i get home from work. i'm pooped. i go upstairs and start straightening my hair because i won't have time later. after i finish about a fourth, i get a call from jette. "it's here!" she screams. she doesn't have a car, so, of course, i offer to pick her up and take her to our parents' house. she explains how she called dad several times to see if he checked the mail and if her call had come. after some forgetfulness on dad's part, the news came that the large envelope from the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints was at the house, waiting to be shredded open.

jette has 34,857,837,655 friends calling her to hear about where she's going. "i haven't opened it yet!" she replies. we get to the house, and we wait for lashawn and james to get there. this reminds me so much of when i got my call and had to wait for everyone to get home so i could open it. they finally come, and we get the necessary friends and family on the line to hear where jette will spend 18 months of her life. she opens the envelope, pulls out the call, and quickly covers the whole letter except the first line. she reads, uncovering each new line of words as she goes along. eventually, we hear that she has been assigned to labor in the [blankity blank] mission*. james and i are all like:

look at all of that emotion.

 

jette's just like:

"oh heyyyy i got my mission call n stuff"

 



and that was that. jette's going to [blank] to preach the gospel. she reports to the missionary training center on may 29th. she's stoked, and i'm stoked to know that there will be countless souls who will be touched by jette's quirkiness and sweet spirit. there's just so many cool things about the fact that jette's going to [blank]. sigh. i am already planning all of the packages and letters of inspiration i will send her. i remember how much those things meant to me when i was serving.

*originally, i mentioned where she was called to serve. jette, however, would not like the world to know where just yet. i am begrudgingly respecting her wishes.

i got closer to my creator and savior.

so, let's go back to the lesson i learned in brazil. brazilians taught me how to love openly and deeply. they are so affectionate and caloroso (warm). it's like they wrap you in a warm blanket of their love. there were some days i needed that warm blanket more than others, and i was so thankful. these past couple of weeks, i feel like i have been the warm blanket for many others and, by doing so, i have felt myself encircled in the loving arms of my savior.

when i went to scott's memorial service, i was deeply moved by the power and depth of the loving relationships we have with other people. i don't think about it very often, but the atmosphere and spirit were right to be able to reflect on how much i love my family and friends. i wanted to make those relationships even more profound and cater to how others feel my love. that means going out of my comfort zone, but that's okay.

i went to my choir class right after that and, wouldn't you know it? we were singing our entire repetoire for one of the other choir directors. there were two pieces that talk about the goodness of the lord, and i was trying not to completely collapse into tears as we sang them. singing laudes (praises) to the lord made me recognize how much i do praise him and how entirely dependent upon him i am for survival. when we sang about how good god was to "send his son to do us sinners good," i was humbled and grateful for this goodness. it was a bit tiring, how much emotional energy i was spending to feel the love of the lord. i loved it, though.

i went to the temple later with my roommate. i was still thinking about the experiences of the day as we walked into the chapel. the organist began to play "i feel my savior's love," my favorite children's hymn. i began to tear up again. i thought about the perfection of god's plan of salvation. scott's family would be able to see him again and embrace him and feel their deep connection with him forever. through the savior, that was very possible. it would require faith, hope, and action, but it was within their grasp.

my roommate saw my tears and quietly fetched me some tissues. she gave them to me and wrapped her arm around me. i allowed myself to melt into her shoulder and sob silently as i thought about how the deep love i was feeling for god, my family, my friends, and the human race was a little taste of how god felt about me and all of his children. he is so anxious to see us again so that he can embrace us and tell us how much he loves us and has been watching us progress and grow for so long. i am so anxious to see him again, too. i'm anxious to tell him about how hard i worked to be the woman he wanted me to be -- like a daughter wants to be good for her father. that image motivates me so much now.

i love people. they are fascinating. each one is important to god, and he expects me to love the ones i get to have around me. i understand that more now and accept the duty and honor. it's a privilege, really.

everyone can use a sunshiny roommate in their life.