Okay this note goes out to everyone. Consider it a memo for an upcoming meeting or something. I welcome all of your thoughts and concerns on this matter. This is an attempt to bridge that horrible chasm that is a mass of confusion and utter terror to most men; the female mind! The longer I live here the more I understand that girls are some of the happiest misery you will ever suffer during your sojourn here on earth. I mean this in a loving way and this note is not to be slanderous in any respect. I fully respect the female society, and mean no disrespect at all to anyone with my remarks. If I make a comment that offends you in some way, let me know and I'll rectify it with you. That being said, this is meant to be a humorous debate with anyone that is willing to venture into the realm of my scathing wit and bitterness on this subject.
I am one of the many men that at some time or other has sworn off dating. Most of the times the members of this club make that vow several times. Of course we always rescind our declaration upon crossing paths with the next set of batting eyelashes that catches our eye. However, like any other long time member of this club might tell you, we're still trying to figure this whole game out. We don't get the whole stop-n-go kind of theory that seems to accompany that all elusive status of "relationship". We struggle to see what there is that attracts you females to give in to some guys. It feels like we're playing a game of Clue, and we're trying desperately to find out what the missing piece of the puzzle is. Yet when we declare that it was Col. Mustard in the Library with the candlestick, if we're wrong all we get for a response is "no". That's it! No new clues are given to us to help us figure this out! Do you have any idea how maddening this is!? There's no reasoning at all! We're left shooting in the dark at targets of variable sizes and we're not even sure we're getting close to the mark.
Girls, let me give you a hint. We guys are not nearly so smart as you may think, you feel like that if you like one of us then we should be man enough to figure it out! Girls drop all of these elaborate hints that when added up form one decent sized hint, but it's like looking for change in your Uncle's couch! You find all sorts of stuff besides coins; lint, old plastic utensils, TV remotes, TV guides, and other odd assortments of strange articles some of them too horrific to mention. But we guys aren't that smart in that area, so we'll sit and stew over a piece of newspaper trimmings and wonder if it's really a quarter in disguise. This sounds ridiculous, but what seems rather obvious to you girls is really something that we often times wouldn't even consider as a hint.
Here it is simply put for you: If a guy likes you, and really likes you, he'll want to spend time with you and he'll seek you out to do it. Please don't discourage us in this regards. Nothing is more frustrating than when we finally work up the gumption to ask you to do something and have you give us one of those ambiguous responses that lead us to wonder if you were just trying to let us down easy, or if you really did want to do something with us. If you do want us to keep trying give us something to work with! Laugh on the phone when we call, we're just as terrified of you as you are of us! Probably more so! Give us encouragement, and don't feel that it is too forward to give us a call if you kinda like us, too! The rules of engagement in this parley have changed considerably in the last few decades, it's okay to let us know if you like us! Heck it makes it a lot easier for us to know if we should make a move or not!
Guys need neon signs pointing them in the right direction, bright ones with blinking lights and pretty colors. What we don't even notice is some obscure smoke signal off in the distance. We also need those signs to let us know when we're doing good. It's hard to know when we're just getting to know you if we do something that you like. Let us know! Communication is key in this world, and it starts in the courtship! Men, as you should know are the last ones to be possessed with the ability to read minds! We're pretty dense sometimes, I don't know how to say it any clearer. We need your help to know when we're on the right track. I know some girls have this idea of a guy that can tell by the light of your smile what he's supposed to do next, and even if you don't have him in your head then we guys think that you do and he intimidates us as much as anything!
As much as we want to be your knights in shining armor, we're just as scared that we're going to mess up when we talk to you as you are when we talk to you. We have this image of the ultimate man already dreamed up that is some Brad Pitt kind of character that is charming and witty and smells good. We feel a lot of time that we don't measure up to that.
Of course, I make it sound like guys are these analyzing machines and we think a lot into what we're going to do. Here's a tip: we don't think these things through nearly that much. The guy's thought process goes something like this: That girl's kinda cute! She's really nice, kinda quiet. Maybe I'll ask her on a date? Yeah, sure! To be honest it comes down to this, when a guy asks you out he's saying "I like you thus far, I kinda want to see where this can go." There is never any guy that doesn't ask a girl out that he doesn't have it in mind that he wants to see where things can go, especially up here at BYU-Idaho.
Now, that doesn't mean we plan on asking anyone to marry us if they say yes to a second date, but you know what? With all the drilling we get on getting married up here, and with all of our friends and family being or getting married around us, we see that happiness and of course we want to jump on the bandwagon. But that doesn't mean that we're all fanatics about it. Or that we aren't going to think out such an astronomical leap without much fasting, prayer, temple going, and several months of dating before we even begin to seriously consider asking you that all important question?
All things considered, dating is a sticky situation and can be seen as some sweet poison, a rose with thorns gilded in nightshade if you will. Everyone has a different experience with it. I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything, but I won't say that I wouldn't like different experiences and new perspectives on this area. Girls, please help us to bridge this gap. We enjoy the wonderful things that you have to offer, but our callous hands sometimes do not handle gently that which we aught to. If that has happened, give us another chance, remember that we also have fragile parts of us that your indifference can damage just as surely.
We are looking for something special, and while friendship in itself is wonderful, and a good building block to move forward with, we are looking for something more meaningful. All of us, whether man or woman are looking for that, for though friends are essential to this life, they are actors in a play that is constantly changing its role call. Exits and entrances are frequent, and even with good friends there comes a time when we want something more long lasting and stable in our lives. We aren't fanatics for wanting this, nor are we blind zombies that are bent only on marriage, don't misunderstand me. We want only the happiness that comes from having someone special in our life. The exhilaration of receiving that special place in someone's life is something that all of humanity seeks after in one form or another, the love of another is a precious thing and we all have need of it. So don't misinterpret our intentions.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Death, Thou Shalt Die
Death is a companion that seems to want to accompany us all throughout life; some of us just have closer experiences with it than others. I myself am becoming quite familiar with him. He can be a cold creature at times, and at other times a sweet release to those who suffer. I have been a witness to both types, and also many other varying degrees in between. He’s very misunderstood, I think. He comes with his raven wings and glides away just as quietly. I’ve seen him several times, and the more exposure that I’ve had with him, the less frightening he is. He comes for his clients with a cool professionalism that is undeniable, and sweeps them away, leaving only husks in their place. But where he takes them depends on how much currency they have, and he only deals in virtuous and worthy lives.
I remember the first time that I really began to know Death was while serving as a missionary in the Mexico City South Mission. It was a dark day, even though the sun was shining brightly. A recent convert to the Church, who I will call Marcos, had found his son’s dead body hanging from the support beam in his own room. We had been at Marcos’s house all the previous day offering consolation and advising those bereaved by grief. It was exactly two years ago from tonight on April 1, 2007 that it happened. I wrote home the following words in reference to this horrible event:
“On Sunday, we went to the burial, this was one of the most horrible experiences I have ever had in my mission. I have never seen so much absolute wailing and gnashing of teeth as the scriptures describe it. There were so many people screaming and pulling at their hair, and fainting and so many things, it was an unorganized array. The burial team was callous and un-professional in the way they handled the actual burying, carelessly dropping the casket into a crudely cut out hole in the ground and then brutally threw shovel-fulls of dirt onto the remains of what was my friend's son. It was too much for him, he made as if to go over to the graveside, and some of his family grabbed him, restraining him. One of the old ladies, probably an aunt, began telling him ''Tell God to give you back your son! It's because you changed religions, God is punishing you for that! Tell Him you want your son back! It doesn't matter if God takes you, but tell him how you feel!'' The father threw them off of him and said as he ran to the side of where they were burying his son
“Don't even talk to me!'' When he got to the grave, it was an emotional burden too strong for him, and he turned to the nearest person, which as God would have it, was the bishop. He turned and began weeping on his shoulder as the clods of dirt accompanied the tortured cries of the mother and her family.
This was a very difficult thing to see, we sang a few hymns to try and make it somewhat easier, the contention of the family against us was enough to destroy any chance of the spirit taking part in this cold ceremony. This was a cold reminder of what this life is, this wasn't like any other funeral I had ever been too, where the tears shed were done so in celebration of a life well-lived, and at times, a life that had been cut short by an accident, but all had been with the sweet reassurances of the gospel, the resurrection, and the promises of covenants made in the holy temples of the Lord. These people screamed their hopeless protests against a seemingly invincible foe: Death. They knew nothing, or very little, of the hope that comes through our Savior, in these moments. Christ was a forgotten figure, something more resembling Santa Claus, not someone that could actually have the power to take away the pains of losing a loved one.
In the faith of our Lord, the sting of death is taken away, we know that it is only a temporary phase that must happen as surely as birth is a part of this plan that we all are part of. Needless to say, I am so very grateful for the Plan of Salvation that we have, that takes away the needless fear of what lies beyond this life. I hope we all realize what a priceless jewel we have in our lives to have such a knowledge.
This funeral was a blunt reminder of what we all must pass through, the great and small, rich and poor, learned and un, all must die, and many times the only ones to share our grief in this world are a few family members, and they are suffering the same and are not too great a comfort. With the Lord in our lives, we have a great comfort, that some day we will rise. Death will have no power over us, and we will be free forever. I am grateful for the opportunity I had to be able to offer some small measure of comfort to this brother by sharing somewhat with him the Plan of Salvation. I am grateful for worthy priesthood bearers such as the bishop of this ward, who were there when this brother needed him most. Mostly, I am grateful for the Comforter, which comes from our Heavenly Father that is able to help us in these difficult times. The brother is still struggling with the loss of his son, but his ward is uniting to help him, and I am sure that the Lord will not leave him alone. I feel a calm sense of assurance in saying that with time, he will be fine, through the cleansing power of the Atonement, he still has some time left in this ''Friday'' of his life, as Elder Wirthlin said in the October conference, but Sunday is well on its' way.”
John Donne, in a later portion of his life, penned the poem “Death Be Not Proud”. Its words are a stirring reminder for us to be grateful for the wonderful blessings that we possess in this Gospel, the answers to the knowledge that death is not the end. He writes: “Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so, for, those whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow, die not, poor Death…” Remember that this life is not the end, and we do not have all the answers in this life as to the outcome of every single individual, we do know this: “One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.” So it shall be, and we will be forever left to consider the outcomes of our decisions, whether for our eternal happiness or not is the decision that we face today. Let all our choices be those that direct us to the hope of an eternity with those we love, and let us not pawn off the difficulties of today for a moment’s sinful respite. Let us continue moving forward towards the victory. That we might be able to truly rest and be able to come forth in that great day, when all is finished and death, that sad creature, takes its final victim: itself.
I remember the first time that I really began to know Death was while serving as a missionary in the Mexico City South Mission. It was a dark day, even though the sun was shining brightly. A recent convert to the Church, who I will call Marcos, had found his son’s dead body hanging from the support beam in his own room. We had been at Marcos’s house all the previous day offering consolation and advising those bereaved by grief. It was exactly two years ago from tonight on April 1, 2007 that it happened. I wrote home the following words in reference to this horrible event:
“On Sunday, we went to the burial, this was one of the most horrible experiences I have ever had in my mission. I have never seen so much absolute wailing and gnashing of teeth as the scriptures describe it. There were so many people screaming and pulling at their hair, and fainting and so many things, it was an unorganized array. The burial team was callous and un-professional in the way they handled the actual burying, carelessly dropping the casket into a crudely cut out hole in the ground and then brutally threw shovel-fulls of dirt onto the remains of what was my friend's son. It was too much for him, he made as if to go over to the graveside, and some of his family grabbed him, restraining him. One of the old ladies, probably an aunt, began telling him ''Tell God to give you back your son! It's because you changed religions, God is punishing you for that! Tell Him you want your son back! It doesn't matter if God takes you, but tell him how you feel!'' The father threw them off of him and said as he ran to the side of where they were burying his son
“Don't even talk to me!'' When he got to the grave, it was an emotional burden too strong for him, and he turned to the nearest person, which as God would have it, was the bishop. He turned and began weeping on his shoulder as the clods of dirt accompanied the tortured cries of the mother and her family.
This was a very difficult thing to see, we sang a few hymns to try and make it somewhat easier, the contention of the family against us was enough to destroy any chance of the spirit taking part in this cold ceremony. This was a cold reminder of what this life is, this wasn't like any other funeral I had ever been too, where the tears shed were done so in celebration of a life well-lived, and at times, a life that had been cut short by an accident, but all had been with the sweet reassurances of the gospel, the resurrection, and the promises of covenants made in the holy temples of the Lord. These people screamed their hopeless protests against a seemingly invincible foe: Death. They knew nothing, or very little, of the hope that comes through our Savior, in these moments. Christ was a forgotten figure, something more resembling Santa Claus, not someone that could actually have the power to take away the pains of losing a loved one.
In the faith of our Lord, the sting of death is taken away, we know that it is only a temporary phase that must happen as surely as birth is a part of this plan that we all are part of. Needless to say, I am so very grateful for the Plan of Salvation that we have, that takes away the needless fear of what lies beyond this life. I hope we all realize what a priceless jewel we have in our lives to have such a knowledge.
This funeral was a blunt reminder of what we all must pass through, the great and small, rich and poor, learned and un, all must die, and many times the only ones to share our grief in this world are a few family members, and they are suffering the same and are not too great a comfort. With the Lord in our lives, we have a great comfort, that some day we will rise. Death will have no power over us, and we will be free forever. I am grateful for the opportunity I had to be able to offer some small measure of comfort to this brother by sharing somewhat with him the Plan of Salvation. I am grateful for worthy priesthood bearers such as the bishop of this ward, who were there when this brother needed him most. Mostly, I am grateful for the Comforter, which comes from our Heavenly Father that is able to help us in these difficult times. The brother is still struggling with the loss of his son, but his ward is uniting to help him, and I am sure that the Lord will not leave him alone. I feel a calm sense of assurance in saying that with time, he will be fine, through the cleansing power of the Atonement, he still has some time left in this ''Friday'' of his life, as Elder Wirthlin said in the October conference, but Sunday is well on its' way.”
John Donne, in a later portion of his life, penned the poem “Death Be Not Proud”. Its words are a stirring reminder for us to be grateful for the wonderful blessings that we possess in this Gospel, the answers to the knowledge that death is not the end. He writes: “Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so, for, those whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow, die not, poor Death…” Remember that this life is not the end, and we do not have all the answers in this life as to the outcome of every single individual, we do know this: “One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.” So it shall be, and we will be forever left to consider the outcomes of our decisions, whether for our eternal happiness or not is the decision that we face today. Let all our choices be those that direct us to the hope of an eternity with those we love, and let us not pawn off the difficulties of today for a moment’s sinful respite. Let us continue moving forward towards the victory. That we might be able to truly rest and be able to come forth in that great day, when all is finished and death, that sad creature, takes its final victim: itself.
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