Invisible

This campus is enormous.

Sometimes...I feel like I'm completely unseen. Like I could twirl and dance and shout, but no one would see or hear. Like I could tumble to the ground dead and no one would stop walking, no one would even slow down to look at me.

Sometimes I feel like...no matter what I wear, no matter how I fix my hair, no matter if I spend two or twenty minutes on my makeup, it doesn't make a difference. No one will look at me any different. No one will remember my face.

Sometimes I feel.....invisible walking through the hordes of students making their way to classes and jobs and meetings with friends and peers. I feel lost in all the thoughts, swirling around in the wind.

Does he like me? 
Did I forget to turn in that assignment due today? 
I hope I did well on that test. 
I don't know how we're going to afford this baby. 
It was really embarrassing when my professor caught me on Facebook in class today. 
Hopefully my grandma is okay.
My roommate is a jerk.
Should I go on a mission?

They swallow me up. There are so many people on this campus, wrapped up in their lives. Some of them seem to wander around, unsure of where they're going, unsure of what they're doing. Some of them never move without a purpose, always thinking about the destination, always thinking about the next task ahead of them.

Among all of the thoughts and troubles and people around me, I feel small and insignificant. It makes it hard sometimes for me to walk with purpose. It makes it hard sometimes for me to look ahead to my destination. It makes it hard sometimes for me to remember all of the things that I'm supposed to be doing next. It makes it hard sometimes for me to wake up in the morning, to crawl out of bed, choose my clothes, do my hair, put on makeup.

I have this fantasy of simply standing still in the middle of a crowd of people. I'm standing in place while they all walk around me. Shoulders brush mine, backpacks bumping into my arms, strings of conversation floating past my ears, the rustling of coats and shoes and pants around me. I could raise my arms above my head, reach my hands to the sky and simply look up. No one would stop. I would be nothing more than a small rock in a great stream of water flowing down a mountain.

I have this vision of myself walking through a crowd, surrounded by a white bubble. It moves with me. People move around it without a second glance at me. It's almost cruel; it isolates me while giving me a glimpse of what I'm isolated from.

The things I struggle with weigh on my mind as I walk every day. I spend so much time walking. I spend so much time thinking. I spend so much time around people feeling alone. I feel lonely and empty, but at the same time so incredibly full. Full of words, of emotion, of sadness and missing things. I feel so full of all of this experience and knowledge, but at the same time I feel that there's something struggling to put itself in the reach of my arms. I sometimes wonder if I know what it is, other times I don't.

Don't think that I'm not happy with my life. I am. I am immeasurably happy with my family, the Gospel, my schooling, my home, my husband, especially. I can't deny that. I am terribly blessed and I am very aware of it, and very grateful for it.

But that doesn't change my feelings. I still feel small and sad and lonely and invisible. It's difficult to concentrate or feel motivated. The weight of feeling so utterly unseen presses on my heart, so heavy. I feel fragile and breakable and thin.

And then, like a fairy-tale but so much calmer, I feel bathed in a warm light that covers me, and me alone. I know that I'm not unseen. I know that I'm not invisible. I may be small and sad sometimes, but I am not alone.

Christ is with me.

And that feels like a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day.

the Proof of His Love

If you know anything about me, you know that I have a weird obsession with Christian radio stations. I LOVE them! It brings me a lot of comfort to know that there are people in the world who are doing their best to sing about Christ and the power that it has in our lives.

I was talking to my friend who is preparing for a mission, and she told me something I found really profound. She said that she's most worried about sharing the message of Christ. If someone can take a step towards Christ, she told me that it would be just as satisfying to her as a baptism would be. I agree--though a mission is not in the cards for me right now, I still think that sharing the message of Christ is a beautiful thing. He is the reason that we have hope in this life! He is the reason that we can look forward to our lives after death. He is the beautiful thing that we are walking towards in this life. 

What can I do in my life to help myself better channel His love and incredible message through me?

It was with these thoughts that I found this song. It's by an Australian Christian band called "for King & Country" and it's called "Proof of Your Love." The video initially weirded me out, but after a few seconds, I understood what it was they were doing with it. The song is just beautiful. Listen--come on. It's not like you don't have time (you already clicked on the link to this post). Allow yourself to be uplifted--there is an amazing spirit in their music.

I just...feel so touched by the verses:

"If I sing, 

but don't have love, 

I waste my breath 

with every song 

I bring an empty voice, 

a hollow noise"

"If I give to a needy soul 

but don't have love, 

then who is poor? 

It seems, 

all the poverty 

is found in me."

It's such a visceral image: we are the poor ones if we serve without love. There is no point to our endeavors, the music we make, the art we create, the things we do with our hands, if we don't put our love into them. 

And the part he speaks over the intercom in the video? I think it's a combination of his voice and the spirit of his words, but I get the chills every time.

"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy, 
but don't love, 
I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate."

There is no point to our lives without love, His and ours.

I have been pondering ways that I can let my life serve as the proof of God's love. After all, when we die, only our love and knowledge will come with us.

Here are a few things that my soon-to-be missionary friend does:

She smiles a lot. Christ's people should be happy. That should be our defining characteristic. It is definitely hers. Her smile really radiates the light of Christ--and she's not shy with it. I doubt she even knows she's smiling so often! But that's why it's so wonderful, because it's not forced or purposeful. She's really THAT happy. 

She takes every opportunity to bring conversation around to God. She doesn't do it on purpose, but everything she says comes back to the influence that Christ has in her life. This is a huge manifestation of God's love in her life: she can't stop talking about it! I appreciate talking with her and watching the Spirit she feels show through her words. Many conversations nowadays end with her testimony, whether it's formally born or not. I think it's magical.

She serves others. It's not anything crazy, but I think that oftentimes the crazy acts of service people do are partly to be recognized. She doesn't do it for that. She will risk being late to work to listen to a friend in need. She brought me a piece of pie for no reason--she was just thinking about me (what she didn't know was that I had six hours left of my day and a terrible hungry feeling in the pit of my stomach). She'll take your plate to the sink, even as a guest in your home. SHE MADE ME BREAKFAST AT MY OWN HOME. She's just thoughtful. The spirit of Christ that she feels produces those small, utterly meaningful acts of service in her every day life.

How can your life be the proof of His love?

Love

Sometimes life is rough on us, and we don't have time to take in all the love that is around us. Some days we are struck with the fullness of that love.

This weekend I have been struck with the fullness of the love inside me and around me.

I feel very overwhelmed by love. Saturday morning we snuggled in bed and read together--Alan's reading Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card, and I'm tackling Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson. It was refreshingly leisured and slow.

Saturday evening we went driving to see what was on the other side of the mountains westward. It was two hours of olives in tupper-ware and sticky maraschino cherries and giggles about bad radio stations. We went over to the nursing home to see Ina, our favorite Alaskan ex-pilot with a strange, fierce love for pigs and Elvis.

Friday night we went to an art museum and the pool. We sat in brightly colored chairs and drank fancy "mock-tails," watching the little boy a table over point and laugh at the saxophone, cello and drum set at the other end of the room. We pulled on our swimsuits and braved the giggles of teenage couples for a few minutes in the hot tub together.

This afternoon we taught the Sunbeams together. We got on our knees and helped them color pictures of fish and water a little plant and eat fruit snacks and pretend to brush our teeth. We giggled together as each of them drenched the fronts of their shirts and dresses trying to reach the drinking fountain. Ah, three year-olds.

I just wanna kiss you in the morning sun,
I just wanna love you when the day is done,
I just wanna hold you just because I can.
I do.
I do.

I just wanna fold you up into my arms,
I just wanna listen to your beating heart,
I just wanna love you just because I do
I do.
I do.