"Pick a star on the dark horizon, and follow the light."

When one thinks to begins a journey, generally one set a course that they will stick to, a fairly straightforward and well mapped course. However, this is not the only way to travel. And perhaps life is not so much of a journey, as it is a quest. You see there is a rather larger difference between a journey and a quest. A journey is something you embark on, the main reason being to get from a certain place to another. But a quest, a noble quest, that is so much more. It is not only about where you are going, but what you pick up along the way. For in a quest, when you arrive, if you have not gathered and learned and done all you could to prepare for what was at the end, then the trip is pointless, because when you get there, you will find that you have lost.

To paraphrase the great adventurer Bilbo Baggins, "step out your door and move your feet, or theres no telling where you might be swept off to." Does anyone else love to read books of great adventures in distant lands and find themselves for sometimes days and months dreaming of being there and having your own great adventure. I do. But then I remember that life is the most spectacular adventure there is. We are on a quest, an adventure. Never forget that. It is the greatest adventure of all, and if your missing it, shame on you. There is much we must pick up along the way. There are lessons that we each need to learn. There are so many different routes to take, so many different courses of action to pursue. They are numerous as the stars and they all lead to the same place. So pick a star on the dark horizon, and follow the light. And when you arrive at the source of that light and look Him in the face, be sure that you have all you need. It takes a lot to finish this quest. Much more challenging than it was for Frodo to throw away the ring, or for Harry to kill Voldemort, for Edmund to defeat the White Witch, harder than saving Fablehaven, than getting Artemis to truly change his ways, for Wendy to say good bye to Peter Pan. But it is more than possible. We have all we need. We are the divine children of God, taken at birth to be raised in a distant land, far away from our kingdom where we are subject to pain and trials and suffering and death. But we have found who we really are. And now we are on a quest to return home. It is a difficult road, but it is a good road. Its like Samwise said, "Its like in the great stories Mr. Frodo, the ones that really matter. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't wan to know the end because how could the world go back to the way it was, when so much bad had happened. But in the end it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass, a new day will come and when the sun shines it will shine out all the clearer. Those are the stories that stayed with you, that meant something. Even if you were to young to understand. But I think Mr. Frodo, now I do understand. I know that folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't They kept going, because they were holding on to something. There's some good in this world and its worth fighting for."

We're in one such story. How incredible. What will your part be? Remember, extraordinary things happen to extraordinary people, are you doing the little extra? Do it for Narnia, and for Aslan.

"Be not ashamed of mistakes and thus make them crimes." Confucius

Mistakes are common place enough. I personally try to make at least 12 a day. Without them, I would be such a boring person. Stuck in a rut, an old rut with nothing knew ever crossing my path. Life could be one straight course. But where is the fun in that? Mistakes are those sudden gust of wind that knock us off our feet, blow us away from the path; the detours and pit stops and wrong directions that make a trip memorable. I remember my favorite road trip was when I was 17 years old and my family was driving 4 hours to a job interview for my Dad. We thought it would be a fun little day trip, an adventure to a new town. Well, it was an adventure. That much is for sure. We were ready to go, but our old red suburban had different plans in mind. Apparently that was the day when the thermostat decided it had had just about enough. It took us nearly 5 hours to get there, stopping every so often to let the engine cool. When we arrived we had a good afternoon playing and picnicing while Dad was in his interview. No one was especailly happy at the circumstances that brought us to that place, we had all grown up in our hometown, we loved it, I was about to start my senior year at the school I had attended since first grade. But still, the thought of a fresh start had a certain appeal, a foreign and new aroma that excited the senses and imagination. I was intrigued. Then we began the journey home. The longest car ride of my life, metaphorically speaking. We stopped every 20 min to let the engine cool. It was a hot sticky drive, the circumstances were miserable. Anyone who had driven that stretch of highway between Davenport and Waterville nows how long and boring that straight stretch of highway is, with nothing but desert and fields as far as the eye can see. But despite the circumstances, it was the most fun. We sang and laughed and cried and whined the whole trip together as a family. We were so happy despite what was going on. I know my parents were very grateful for their kids that day. They were stressed, their car was breaking, they were trying to figure out what was best for our family. And I know that the greatest gift we as their children can give them, we gave them that day. We were happy.

Mistakes happen all the time. Never try to cover them up. Don't make excuses. All you are doing is avoiding the inevitable. It is far better to admit mistake then to cover it up. That only makes it a crime. I acknowledge my faults, my weaknesses, I make so many mistakes. But I also find myself apologizing and worrying, and trying to fix things a lot. So in this way, I am not worried about my mistakes. I know they come. That is how I learn, and sure maybe it takes me making the same mistake over and over, but I will learn. And until then I will just continue to apologize to those who are affected by my mistakes. And I will gladly forgive the mistakes of others. We are all together in this life, and we all make mistakes. I have made to many. But "our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do." There is one friend in particular who I feel has been affected by my mistakes. I would like to say I'm sorry. This friend has always been very accepting of my mistakes, and has let me learn and grow through them. I think of that friend as I write this, and I pray they can forgive me.

The bell tolls for thee...

It was not until I took a class on Augustinain philosophy that I learned the message behind this much used phrase, and understanding the implications of it has taken even longer. "Ask not for whom the bell tolls, the bell tolls for thee..." When one died it was tradition that the church bells would herald the news of the death throughout the town. During the plague the ringing of the bells became far to common place and their constant pounding echoed always. But the writer implores us not to ask for whom those bells were ringing, it is a silly question, they are ringing for you, and me. They cry out in despair for humanity, when one is lost, don't we all lose a little something? Are we not all part of the same race, fighting for the same thing, are we not all children of the same God? So when the bell tolls for one, it tolls for each and every one.

I hang my head in despair at times when I see the condition of humanity. I feel we have in some ways sunk lower than the original audience of those lines. At least they thought to ask for you the bell was tolling. Do we even pay that much attention? Do we truly notice the suffering around us? Sure we now of the great calamities, the devastation that runs rampant all around, but that is not what I am talking of. I speak of the bells sounding in our communities, in our classrooms, our very homes. Can we hear the ringing of the bells? Do we notice the needs of  those we are closest to? They are often the easiest to ignore, they will willingly forgive us our faults if we are not kind to them. Strangers, now they would not understand so gracious and courteous must we be. But those we are closest to, we know them well enough that we may be completely honest, that we can hurt their feelings, ignore their needs.

But when we hurt another, when we ignore another's suffering, when we are guilty of not knowing who we can serve, who we can lift, then we are ignorant of life. We have hidden our faces. But silly fools we are, for no matter if we ask or not for the whom the bell tolls, each and every time it rings it rings for you and me.

I can't know where you have been or where you are going. I don't know what you feel and I can never know what I would have done in your shoes. All I can know is who you are now and what you stand for. I know sometimes what's in our hearts gets lost on the way out. But to truly love someone is to love all of them, even the parts you don't like, even their sins, their shortcomings, their faults. Every part of them, even the parts you can't stand. But its not despite their flaws the you love them, rather its because of their flaws, the way that they complete that person, the total acceptance that you give them  and which you receive in return. This is the only way to change a heart, to shed light and hope on even the blackest of circumstances.

I wish I could remember why I chose to come to this earth. I wish I knew what that critical decision was, what I was thinking in that moment in which I decided to stand for what was right. What was going through my mind? Was I scared, or was I brave? Who did I lose that day? I wish I could remember my Savior and how he stood at that day and fought for my agency, for my chance to live. Did someone dear to me stand across the line? Was there anger or sadness written on their face? Who did I lose in that great battle, the eternal sadness that fills me at times when it seems there is nothing wrong. It was a very dear friends, I know I did not want to leave them, but I knew what was right. I wonder how well I knew Lucifer. Did I perhaps at one time look up to him, see the reason in his plan? What or who was it that influence me on that day to make the decision to follow my Father?

Now that I am here on Earth and the veil is before my eyes I wonder who, if it were removed, I would recognize. This life is meant to be a trial so for the most part Heavenly Father I believe has placed us with those we probably were not close with. But then there are those moments when life is toughest, when the world presses down upon us, and we question our decision that day to stand by the Savior that the sends us someone special. Someone who was a dear friend. The one perhaps who stood beside us as we fought in Heaven, who held our hands when the final stroke fell and Lucifer was cast out, who hugged me as I cried over those that i had loved who were now lost forever. The one who I stood close to and who calmed my fears as we prepared to leave our eternal home to go to a strange and foreign place where we would hurt and be challenged and have to suffer pain and affliction and trials. What did we say to each other at that day? Deep in my heart I feel the echo of a promise, a promise that we would meet again. That we would find each other on this earth, and no matter what the cost do everything in our power to get each other safely home where we would dwell with God always. I feel when I face critical moments in my life that is when I find those friends. We are brought together to support each other, just as the Angel comforted the Savior in the garden. I know this deep in my heart where the voices of eternity echo in my soul, "You are not alone dear child, you are not alone."

I can't think straight right now. I'm so frustrated and annoyed. I'm just flustered. And that is no way to go to bed. But I just don't understand people. I don't usually vent, but tonight I need to. I wish that things were perfect. I wish that the people I love would make the right decisions. I wish everyone was happy. I know its not realistic, but I still wish it. I wish that my best was good enough. What kills me most is when it's not. I hate that I live by my emotions. They are always right there on my sleeve. I can't hide them. Every little thing pricks my heart so deeply.  I hate it. And those wounds are so slow to heal. I have always been slow at healing which is precisely why I guard my feelings with the utmost protection. So then it hurts even worse when I trust someone only to have them disappoint. This is frustrating to me. I do not understand it. There is nothing I wouldn't do for the ones I love. Sacrificing for their good is the most natural thing in the world. But why is this so rarely reciprocated. Why do I feel so very alone in a deep, dark ocean. Why am I so sad in my heart and sick in my soul. My mind knows the answer, the atonement can provide the healing and the happiness. But what do you do when you know what you are supposed to do, but you don't want to. Its not that I seek out sin. Its discouragement that plagues me. Taking care of others is easy, taking care of myself I feel is not worth the effort. 

Written at the front of my scriptures is a quote from Gordon B Hinckley. It was scrawled in several years ago."Let faith replace our fear." That is what I must do. But the irony is I am to afraid to do it.