Miracles and Testimony

Yesterday, as we were touring Temple Square we came to the seagull monument. We told my nieces the story of how the farms of the early settlers of Utah were suddenly besieged by an enormous swarm of grasshoppers, which began to destroy the crops necessary for survival. Miraculously, a massive flock of seagulls descended and ate the grasshoppers and the crops were preserved. 

I have often felt a little uncomfortable when people ask when I discovered that the Church is true and that Christ truly lives, because I have to explain that the was never one singular conversion moment (unlike many people, who experience a miracle prior to conversion).

My conversion has been a lifelong process (and I assume it will continue to be such until the resurrection). However, I can say without shame that I have witnessed undeniable miracles, albeit after the trial of my faith. 

It struck me while we were pondering the miracle of the seagulls that I am grateful that my testimony isn't built on one particular event or miracle. To turn my back on the Gospel would be to pretend a lifetime of witnesses, great and small, were simply unreal. I'm grateful to know, then, that I have so much to lose. 

The path of discipleship is not the easy way; it is the ONLY way. 

The Rose Petal

Last semester in art class my professor had compose a rendition of different things in our lives that make us who we are and give us a reason to keep living. He told a storyline of an Iranian film, "Taste of Cherry," wherein a man on the brink of suicide rediscovers the simple joys of life (like the taste of a cherry). Since then, I've tried to pick something during the day that I usually overlook but that brings balance to my life. I was stressed out of my mind as I walked to school to take a psychological statistics exam, my mind jumping from my academic inadequacies to health issues to worries about my family, when I was shocked back into the present by a rosebush. It looked like an Arizona sunset. I started to walk away when I felt like I should bring some of this beauty with me. I knew it would quickly wilt after coming in contact with my sebaceous oils, but I picked one of the petals off the grass and brought it with me to the testing center. When I was feeling panicky during the test, I would pull it out and smell it and feel its silky texture. This story would be perfect if I did well on the exam, but the reminder that there is far more to this life than keeping scholarships or being smart enough for myself was a Godsend.

Sometimes it's easy to get distracted.  In fact, it almost always is. Sometimes I feel like my same-sex attraction is a semi that I'm tailgating. I have to remind myself to apply the brakes so I can see the whole road and not worry about rear-ending the rainbow trailer in front of me. It is then that I can see the scenery: the mountains, rivers, and rose petals.