29 Days!!!!!

29 DAYS!!!!!

Okay, I'm starting to freak out just a bit. And it hasn't been easy lately. Actually, it's been really hard, to be honest. It seems the closer I get to leaving, the harder satan's minions fight to keep me here.

One day in particular, I read an article that didn't start out anti-Mormon, but certainly ended that way. Afterwards, I was shaken, and confused, and struggling to find my way back to center. After studying PMG at my mom's Therapy appointment, I definitely felt better, but I knew I also needed a blessing from my dad.

After we got home from therapy, I asked him for one, which indeed made me feel better. But the real miracle was in what happened next. My father asked if I would give him a blessing. I felt apprehensive, but I knew I was worthy to give him one, and so I did. As I lay my hands upon his head and began, it felt normal, and to be honest, I just said similar things to the words I usually use. And then, for the first time ever, I felt different. It was very similar to the feeling I had when I knew that Jesus lives and loves me. And for the first time, words followed that feeling.

Now I've always wondered what it would feel like to be commanded to impart a blessing that I thought was... too good to be true. I wondered what I would do: would I have the courage to speak the words that seemed impossible to come to pass? Yet here I was, and those improbable promises came into my mind, but in that moment, with that feeling filling my entire being, I knew that they were true and spoke them as such. I must say, it was one of the most powerful spiritual experiences I've ever had.

I've also begun to be nervous about leaving. And I don't think it's the prospect of a new place, far removed from home, I think it has to do with being away from the people I love. Leaving my friends and family was always my main deterrent from serving a mission, but it's never felt so real until now. I had the thought this morning that it's very much like the grieving process: When Kristi died, it was so strange that life moved on, that things continued basically unchanged.

That's kind of what I feel like, but from a slightly shifted perspective. In one month, I will be on a different side of the planet, yet the world here will continue on without me. My friends' lives will continue on practically unchanged. Weddings will happen. People will move. Things will continue on, and I'll come home to a completely new set of circumstances. And that's scary.

It's terrifying.

But I know that this is what I am meant to do.

This is where I am meant to go.

This is where I am meant to grow, to become the man I am meant to be.

I came to this realization very strongly when I read my latest set of emails from 2 friends out in the field. It's hard, but it's worth it. I can't pretend to know what the future holds for me. I don't know how effective I will be, if I'll be of any help to anyone. But I know I'm meant to serve, and I know I love Him enough to trust in His plan for me, because it has always been better than my own.

-Taylor

My Rededication

I am rededicating myself.

To the Gospel.

To Temple Work.

To Missionary Work.

But most importantly, to the Lord.

I told myself that when I quit working, I would spend my days reading the scriptures, studying PMG, and going to the temple. The reality, however, has demonstrated to me the power of Netflix to the wayward soul...

So I have decided to rededicate myself. I made a commitment to myself and my Savior this morning to not use social media today (a rule I'll be breaking to post this on my wall, but I got permission for that.) I'm going to try to cut back on it entirely. I've removed the Facebook shortcut from my phone, and I've tried to not even pick that up today.

I've also been lacking in my scripture study, and worst of all, prayer. So I knelt down and asked forgiveness, and then hit the book, as it were. I focused on understanding everything, rereading passages often, and multiple times. I have trouble focusing a lot of the time, but I'm trying to improve. That's all I can do.

I finished my routine by praying again, and then writing in my journal. It was wonderful, feeling the spirit, and being so moved to write. I wrote more today than I think I ever have, over a page of thoughts and feelings given me from Him.

I have realized again these past few days and weeks that Satan's plan really is easy. It's a trap disguised as an oasis of "fun" in a desert of duty and dedication. But I have walked that path before. I have drunk from the pools of that oasis, and I can promise you that while it is desirable and pleasant, it cannot bring you real happiness. It cannot replace the pure joy felt when in the presence of the Spirit.

Living the Gospel is the only thing that has ever made me truly happy. It filled the hole in my heart that was gaping for so many years, and replaced it with peace. My mom asked me a question the other day as I sat with her: "What happened to all your rage?" For those of you who may not have had the displeasure of knowing me in my youth, I had a temper that would explode at the drop of a feather. I would often hit things, punch holes in walls, break things, and scream in rage. If you look carefully in my home, you can find spots where the spackle isn't quite the same as surrounding areas, places that have been patched after my fits of rage.

It had diminished in recent years, but ever since returning to the Gospel, it has vanished completely. The Father changed my heart during my conversion and replaced all my anger and rage with peace and joy, and I am forever indebted to Him for it.

And so I find myself here, reflecting on all that He has done for me, and finding myself lacking in the gratitude and dedication departments. Thus, I will try harder.

I will do better.

And I will be better.

For Him, who saved me.

No One Is Lost

As I sit in stake conference, I remember an experience where I was saying nightly prayers with my father, and he prayed for 3 of my siblings who don't go to church, that they might find the truth of the gospel. And I remember mentally scoffing at that, at the notion they could ever come back from where they were.

And then a gentle voice whispered "There used to be a fourth name on that list." And that blew my mind. My dad says the same words every night in his prayers. Every night, for years, he has said that prayer, and I doubted the effectiveness of it, without realizing I'm an example of the success of that prayer.

Nothing, in my mind, is as important as the fact that we are sons and daughters of a loving Heavenly Father. We are created by a being that has such an immense love to us as to be incomprehensible in this mortal frame. Knowing this, how could I ever, for even a moment have thought anyone could ever be lost? Anytime we feel like we're apart from his presence, we are the ones to blame. He will always grant us His presence when we do those things that invite it in.

At a YSA conference in January Alex Boye, a popular LDS singer, related a story about a time he was singing for a business conference. He had returned to his hotel room to discover that it had not been cleaned. The maid was still in the hall, so he went up to her and chastised her for not cleaning the room. She gently pointed to the door, where the "Do Not Disturb" sign was hanging, and said "If the sign's on the door, I don't go in" and offered to clean his room after she had finished the rest of the hallway.

He asked us what signs we put up in our lives that don't allow His presence in. What thoughts, actions, habits, people or places in our lives do we continue to allow to separate us from Him? It's been my goal to find those things in my life, and to try and eradicate them. Every morning when I get up, I try to do my journal and scripture study. And most mornings, I think I can do this or that first, and have time later. But the truth is if I don't do it first, I don't do it. By ignoring the prompting to follow through on that routine, I rob myself of the opportunity to feel the spirit, and receive revelation.

I would encourage you reading this to likewise find those things in your life, those "Do Not Disturb" signs, and take them down. I've said it many times, but it remains true: The path of following Christ is not an easy one, but it is worth it.

With Love,
Taylor

When a General Authority Tells You To Do Something, You Do It.

So I've been debating on whether or not to write about this. But in the end, I've realized it strengthen my testimony bearing my testimony, and so I decided to share it here. Just know that I share this not to puff myself up, or advertise that I'm fantastic, or a wonderful person, or a wonderful member missionary. I'm writing about this event because it was a powerful spiritual experience for me and others, given to us by Heavenly Father, not by purely my interaction with this group of people.

Last Sunday, there was a stake fireside. I sing in the stake choir, so I was there. It was actually Institute graduation, and had I not been a member of State Choir I probably would not have been there. After all of the diplomas and achievement awards had been handed out, we heard from Elder Hansen of the Seventy and his wife. He spoke on experiences he had in Institute, and at one point he mentioned that he was going to invite some people up to share experiences they had had in Institute.

Immediately my heart started to race, and was pounding in my chest; one of the sure signs the Spirit is telling you to go up and bear your testimony. So after the first girl went, and there was a bit of a silence, I raise my hand and walked up to the pulpit. I related a story of when we were talking about the restoration in institute last semester. Brother Chatwin asked us to write a list of blessings we had received because of the restoration, and my list was long. And then he asked what we were willing to sacrifice because of it... I remember looking up at the ceiling and saying... crap. It was in that moment I realize that the Lord was telling me He wanted me to go on a mission. It took talking to a good friend and some sister missionaries to act on that knowledge.

After that, I bore my testimony on the importance of Institute, and went to leave. Just then, Elder Hansen reached out his arm and hooked it around mine, and told me not to leave. He said, imagine this room is full of investigators, that this entire congregation our investigators. Now imagine you're in the living room on your mission speaking to these investigators. Bear your testimony to them of the atonement and its power and influence in your life. And I looked around and noticed there weren't any tissues on the stand, I remarked that we better get some tissues handy, because me and the spirit like to cry together.

After we had sufficient material to dry my eyes, I started to bear the most powerful testimony I have ever borne. It was the kind of testimony that reminded me of just how strong my testimony actually is. It brought back so many feelings of my conversion experience and instances where I felt the spirit and the Savior's love for me so strongly. I wish someone had recorded it, because I would love to be able to listen to that moment and feel those things over and over again.

By the end of my testimony, I was crying, people in the congregational crying, and I definitely needed those tissues. I closed in Jesus' name, and walked away from the stand. On my way back to my seat, Elder Hansen remarked on my testimony and how he thinks he'll make a fine missionary, and how great a spirit he sees in me. Again, I don't bring this up to toot my own horn, or inflate my ego, or brag. I simply bring this up because it gave me a testimony of bearing your testimony. Of how important it is not only to have a testimony, but to share it with others. To let the spirit use you to touch other people's lives.

After the meeting was over, I had multiple people come up to me and remark how inspiring and how beautiful my testimony was, and how they needed to hear it and how it helped them. I never get used to people telling me that I'm an inspiration, or that I've helped them, or that anything I do is significant in any way because all I do is try. All I ever do is try to live the best life that I can, and show the love of Christ that I have been shown to everyone. And I'm terrible at it. I think I'm really bad at leading a christ-like life, but I'm trying to improve. Everyday, step by step I try to think of my Savior and how He lived, and how He wants me to live.

My dear friends, I bare my testimony now that as we share our testimonies with those around us as directed by the Spirit, we will touch lives. That our testimonies can strengthen others testimonies. And not only others' testimonies, but our own. I know it is a vital thing for us to share the love and knowledge we have received from Him, and to live our lives in such a manner that others feel that love of Him emanating from us.

I'm trying to improve. I'm trying to be better. And I'm getting better at it day by day, little by little, line upon line precept upon precept. It is my prayer that we will always strive to be better. That we will all decide to try and see ourselves not through our own distorted lens but through the lens that He sees us through. To see ourselves and our fellow men with the pure love of Christ, with that filter on our lives.

I love you brothers and sisters, be well.

Satan is Everywhere

This is going to be short as it is late, I am tired, and also sleep deprived. I may expound upon the topic further at a later time, but we shall see...

I've been pondering a lot lately on a few topics, but the greatest of which is what methods Satan uses to get us to make poor decisions. And one of the biggest truths I've come to realize is that not every one of them is evil. The Destroyers biggest desire is to lead us from our Father, and make ourselves as miserable as he has made us. This, however, is not solely accomplished through inherently evil means. I firmly believe that one of Lucifer's most potent tools is using good intentions to misdirect us. 

There is the adage that states "The path to Hell is paved with good intentions," and it is fitting. Sinning is not the only way to draw away from our Heavenly Father. D&C 76:75 states: "These are they who are honorable men of the earth, who were blinded by the craftiness of men." They are discussing the second Degree of Glory, for those who have recevied the Testimony of Jesus Christ, but not the fullness of the Father. In essence, these are women and men with good intentions who have been deceived by Satan into following a noble path, but not a path of complete truth.

And this principle doesn't just apply to those who are not of my faith. Westboro Baptist comes to mind. They are a "church" of "Christians" that are devout in their belief of Christ, but who have obviously received, even to those without faith, the wrong message about His teachings. This is of course an extreme example, but think of a time when you were persuaded, or were trying to be persuaded into taking a course of action that wasn't morally wrong, but then again wasn't... right.

Satan, and those under his command, have been at this war for much longer than we have. We're a mere blink of an eye to him. The Deceiver's methods have been tested and honed over thousands of years of human existence, and we cannot defeat him without the help of our Savior and God. We must seek their help diligently, even as Satan seeks our destruction, for he is truly everywhere.


With Love,
Taylor

Thoughts on Gethsemane

My mother had hip replacement surgery on Thursday, and I went to visit her a few hours later. She wasn't in too much pain while she was resting, but she was afraid of what was to come. She was also getting uncomfortable in the position she was in, so the nurses came in to help her roll over on her side bit. As they tried to maneuver her, she cried out in pain. She told them she couldn't do it, that it hurt to badly, but she needed to get moved, and so they kept going. It only took 20 seconds, but I could see the deep pain she was in. Afterward, as tears rolled down her cheeks, she asked my father "How am I going to do this? I can't do this."

It broke my heart to see my mother in so much pain, not knowing how she was going to be able to function, to keep moving forward. As my tears began to echo hers, a picture came to my mind of the Savior kneeling in Gethsemane, taking upon himself the pain of all of humanity. I felt that he had suffered this exact moment in time for my mom, that he was in that room with her, wiping her brow, tears streaming down his face. I felt the need to impart that message to her, and gave her a blessing, wherein the Lord emphasized his love for her.

It was a comfort to me in that dark moment of pain and sorrow of somone I love dearly that He has suffered all that we have, or will. He took upon himself our grief, and sorrows, and afflictions that we might rejoice in His love, and return into his presence.

I bear witness that He lives. He loves us more immensely than we have the capacity to feel it. We need only turn to Him in times of grief or pain, and we will find he was standing beside us all along.

I love you, my beloved brothers and sisters,
Taylor.

I'm Going On a Mission

So I'm actually writing this before many of you will have heard the news. Starting, anyway. I've had so many thoughts during the decision, papers, and submitting process that I have wanted to write down, that I decided to just throw this post into a draft folder, and release it when I announce. And if you're reading it, that means I announced it today! Or, you know, some time in the near past.

When I first started thinking about a mission, I was at the VC with my Sisters, and realized that even though I had a TON of homework, I didn't really care. I just wanted to stay there and continue to talk about gospel things. When I related the thought to them, they gave me a knowing look, and I said "Crap. That's what a mission is..." to which they laughed and nodded.

Since then, there have been many little instances, many promptings that this was the direction I needed to go. I remember the biggest "aha" moment was when we were discussing the restoration in Institute. Brother Chatwin had us write down things that we had because of the Gospel. I wrote down plenty of things, and then he asked, Now what are you willing to sacrifice in thanks?

Crap, I said, looking at the ceiling....

I knew a mission is what He wanted me to do. And I wasn't in love with the idea.

I always said that if Heavenly Father told me I needed to go on a mission, I would do it... I just enver thought he would. I'm 23, I should already have 2 kids and a 3rd on the way, according to the Official Mormon Timeline.

(not a real thing, non-member people. It's a joke.)

But when I decided, I was firm on my decision. Which is unusual for me, as I'm the most indecisive person in the WORLD. That's how I know it's right, because I will waffle on everything.

Going back to the sacrifice thing. I was worried most about leaving smack dab in the middle of my degree. I'm not going to be able to sing as much as I do now. How is my voice going to fair over the next two years? How am I going to come home, and immediately have to give my junior recital, and be prepared for it? I've come to realize that none of that matters, in the eternal perspective. He will provide for me as I serve Him, and after I have served Him.

The hardest part about going pin my mission is leaving my family, and especially all the new friends I've made in the last few months. Since returning to the Church, I've made many be friends, and developed done if the closest relationships I've ever had. It's going to be extremely difficult to leave those people, and know that in 2 years, I may not be able to spend as much time with them as I could now. But again, I know He has a plan that's better than anything I can conceive of, and so I know that I need only serve faithfully, and all will be well.

Okay, opened the call tonight...

ENGLAND???????? WHAT~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm going to a foreign MTC!!!!!

Seriously guys, I'm so excited. The thought hit me in institute the other day: I'm happy that I have the opportunity, the privelege to serve. Not the duty, or obligation, or that I have to. I'm truly glad that I get to go to a distant land, and teach people how to find the joy I have found. How the Gospel is really all about love.

In institute last week, we were discussing Conference, and I had to give a thought before the class began. I talked about how I heard so much about love in those sessions. Later, someone mentioned the story of a lady who heard the message of Marriage in every single talk, but years later looked up the talks and not one was about that. Not one even mentioned marriage. Brother Chatwin made the joke that I wrote down 8 pages of notes, and every single one was about love. After everyone chuckled, his tone softened, he said, and how wonderful that THAT is what he took away from conference as he prepares to go on his mission.

I testify to you that the Gospel, the Church, and the Savior are all about love. True love, that doesn't discriminate or come with condition. I pray that I, and all of you, can learn one day to show that love in every interaction we have with our brothers and sisters on this earth.

Love,

(Soon to be Elder) Taylor Hudson.

Coincidence? No Such Thing

I had a really cool experience today. I went to my friend's Mission homecoming, and as I was waiting for the meeting to start, I saw my 2 favorite Sisters from the Visitor's Center walk in. It turns out that was their ward, which I knew, but had completely forgotten. As we were sitting in the meeting, listening to the sister before my friend talk, One of them asked me if I could help them with something really quickly. Being the service minded individual I am... or try to be, I of course agreed.

The story goes that the Sisters were going to have a recent convert talk about her testimony to a Sunday school class in Utah via Skype at 12:30. However, they didn't realize that with the time difference (thanks DST), so it was actually happening at 11:30. I got to tell these kids (they were a 14-15 year old class, I believe) about my conversion experience, and bear my testimony of the Book of Mormon. It was a very cool, spirit filled experience. But what impressed me the most was that on this 1 day that I just happen to be at this building, where my Sisters just so happen to be serving, there was a mistake that need my help to fix it.

If there's one thing I've learned coming back, there is no such thing as coincidence.

As I told those youth, once you begin to recognize His hand in your life, you can't help but see it. Why? Because it's everywhere!!! Someone in that room needed to hear my story, or my testimony. They might not need it now, maybe 1 or 3 or 5 years down the road, they are struggling. And the spirit might whisper in their ear, and bring to remembrance that moment. And it will help them.

It's... intense how much the Father and His Son orchestrate the puzzle pieces in our lives, the ones we see and those we don't. Shoot, I met those sisters completely by chance. I was walking past the VC after spending some time on the temple grounds one evening, and there they were. One of them walked up to me in the hallway as I was looking at pictures and introduced herself. We ended up talking for nearly 1 and a half hours, until the center closed.

That chance meeting has had a huge effect on my life. Those 2 Sisters are my sisters. they are family. Which is a little crazy to say, seeing as I met them only 6-7 weeks ago. But then again, did I? (I was reading a book by Truman G. Madsen, and he suggests that when we have an unspoken, instant connection on first meeting...we may simply be meeting again for the first time in this life. Heavy stuff)

There are so many things, so many little instances, happenings, and the like in my life that I can no longer believe that mere chance was the cause. Something bigger, something greater was happening. I'm immensely thankful for those moments, for all the little things and great moments in my life where I see His hand working. He is watching over me, orchestrating the puzzle pieces to build a picture I can't even fathom the beauty of.

With Love,
Taylor.

You Are Worth More Than You Know

Life is hard sometimes. We all go through ups and downs, trials and tribulations. It's tough keeping an eternal perspective sometimes. And when we're at our lowest, that is when we need him most. "When life is too hard to stand, kneel." This has become a favorite quote of mine. How powerful the message is that our Heavenly Father is always watching over us.
I myself was finding it hard to "stand" this morning, and so I sought comfort in my daily scripture and prayer journal. As I was writing down the impressions I received from him, 2 thoughts came into my mind, "You are my child, do you doubt in me?" And "You are with so much more than you know." Sometimes, I really need these confirmations of worth from my Heavenly Father. There is power in knowing we are children of Him who made us. Even in his image, were we made, and through Him, and the atonement of His son, we can be renewed, restored, and made better. May we all strive to live up to our Heavenly potential. May we never forget that as children of God, we are powerful beyond measure. We simply need to accept that power, and use it as He would have us do.

I love you all,
Taylor.

I Cry a Lot

Alright guys, time to get real. You might be confused at the blog title, but it's true. Lately, I've been crying a lot.

And it's wonderful.

I notice that when I feel the spirit, I am much more receptive to the beauty in this world. And I'm an emotional guy, and there are some things I just can't help but weep at. The beauty of the Temple, children laughing and having fun, witnessing someone bare their soul in a testimony. These and so many other things.

Let's not forget music. You should be fairly aware of the role that music has played in my spiritual life, and I tell you, a good song will set off the waterworks. "Pure Imagination" from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is burning a hole in my mind right now, just the message of that song is gorgeous:

"If you want to view paradise, 

simply look around and view it. 

Anything you want to, do it. 

Want to change the world? There's nothing to it."

This world is so beautiful. There is so much beauty that surrounds us everyday, in the trees, and the air. The majesty of mountains that surround the valley, the beautiful desert stillness. All of the Father's creation is wonderful.

But I think the most beautiful thing He created is His children. True, there is a lot of bad in the world, but then there is so much good! Each one of His children is born with the light of Christ within them, and they use it everyday to astonish me. The kindness and compassion of people toward total strangers astonishes me. I strive to show that compassion, that charity. The pure love of Christ. As I come closer to Him, I recognize further that each one of us is a Child of God, that we are created in His image, and we are marvelous. 

I'm trying to be more empathetic. I'm trying to be a better man, less judgmental, more accepting. I've noticed that not only have I become more perceptive to the beauty in others, I'm also more in tune with their pain. I'm the kind of person that would suffer, go through agony, rather than say or do anything that someone I care about might be offended or hurt by. And I also strive to comfort others.

The other day, I had a friend who I could tell was struggling with something. I asked if this person was alright, and they began to tear up, and so we went outside to talk. Once we were safely alone, this person broke down. It was all I could do to hold them as they cried, to offer my silent support in an embrace. I wished I could do more. It hurt me so badly to see them in pain, and know that I couldn't take it away. All I could do was comfort them with my presence, and a silent prayer to Father for peace and comfort. I would have given so much to take that pain from them, to wave a wand and fix the situation.

In that moment, I was filled with love for this dear friend. I can scarcely imagine the love our Savior has for us. He knelt in the garden of Gethsemane, and he bore not only our sins, but our weaknesses, and afflictions. Our sorrow and grief. He suffered any and everything we ever have or will suffer. Every tear we will shed was paid for with drops of his blood. A love so pure, that to feel it in it's fullness would destroy our mortal frame.

And I'm unworthy.

I'm not worthy of that forgiveness. I'm in debt, everyday to that act. It's a loan I can never repay, but then again I'm not asked to. Much like the person who pays for your lunch, and simply asks you to pay it forward, our Father asks us to do the same. We are charged with serving His children in whatever manner we can. Whether that's showing kindness or charity to a stranger, providing comfort to a hurting friend, buying a meal for someone who can't afford to themselves; we are tasked to serve, and have many ways to do so.

I'm grateful everyday for my loving Father in Heaven, and the sacrifice His Son made for me. I only pray that I can reflect that love in my interactions with everybody, no matter our differences. We are each a child of God. and are thus deserving and worthy of the respect of our fellow man. I pray that one day, we will all see the value and good in others, and strive to make the world a better place, together.

Love,

Taylor.

Rest

My friends,

I have experienced the deaths of many loved ones in my life, more, I dare say, than many my age. Last night, my dear Uncle Grant was called home to our Heavenly Father. I heard the news, and was admittedly less sorrowful than I have been in the past at news of the passing of someone dear to me. I pondered the reason for this: at first, it seemed that perhaps having experienced so many passings, I had become used to them, less affected. But then I realized I had never been a true believer at the time of any past experiences.

If we believe in an afterlife, a place of peace and rest after this world, then should we not rejoice? Of course, the grief and pain of having one so dear taken from our presence is immense, but we can take comfort in knowing that not only is our loved one is no longer affected by the pains and sorrows of this world, but that we will see them again!

What a wonderful principle of the gospel that is: that families are a eternal unit, and that our "...afflictions shall be but a small moment; and then, if [we] endure it well, God shall exalt [us] on high." (D&C 121: 7 & 8)

As I sat in my parents room discussing travel plans, my dad remarked "He's finally at peace, he can rest. Think of the reunion he's having; Kristi must be thrilled to see him, she loved them so dearly." I can only imagine the joy my sister felt as she met my Uncle in heaven, as they embraced once again. I am so grateful for the knowledge that one day, I shall see my loved ones again. My uncle, my sister, grandparents, Brandon, and all those others that I love who have or will pass through the veil before me. It is of great comfort to my soul.

I love you all,
Taylor

Joy in Christ

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

As I was sitting at my computer this Sabbath morning, listening to Lamb of God by Rob Gardner. As I was listening, "I Am the Resurrection" began to play. I can't tell you how much I enjoy this song. I had the opportunity to perform this work in the choir with Rob at Gammage 2 years ago, and it was one of the most fulfilling performing experiences of my life. As I was listening to the song, I was overcome by emotion. The words, taken from the bible, are so powerful, and they spoke to my soul.

And whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.

I am the Resurrection and the Life

He that believeth in Me, though he were dead

Yet shall he Live.

I am the resurrection

I Am the Resurrection excerpt (my head pops in at :38 on the upper right :D)

How powerful, how comforting is that thought, that through Him, we can have eternal life. It brought tears of joy to my eyes, and made me reflect on the life I lead, and how it's been made whole by following Christ. It made me think of who I was, and who I want to be. It made me think of who I am now, the change of heart I've been granted, and the absolute Joy I feel in Him.

6 months ago, I was slogging through life. I had a job I hated, I was going to school for something I loved, but I doubted I would be successful. I was depressed, I was sad, I was often angry. The smallest things would set me off at a moments notice. I was unsatisfied in my life. Worse yet, so many people around me were so happy. I remember thinking "Why? Why are they happy, when I'm so depressed, unsatisfied. Why do they get to be joyous?" It's because they not only had the Light of Christ in them, a light which we all have to one degree or another, but they followed that Light. They listened, they acted when prompted to do so. As you know, if you've been following this blog, I then sought after, and found this Light.

I cannot adequately describe to you the change in my life it has brought. Once moody and full of rage, I'm joyful, excited about life, and filled with the Love of Christ. I was never a bad person, but I wasn't necessarily a great one. I was more likely to scoff at pleas for assistance than to help. Now, I feel so strongly the love He has for His children that I seek opportunities to help whenever I can.

I recall an instance a few days prior to Christmas where this change was most evident to me. Before I relate this story, I want to mention that this is something I have shared with very few people, because it feels like a humble brag. I promise you I'm not relating this to gain attention, or to receive praise; I'm sharing it because the Spirit is prompting me to do so.

The Monday before Christmas, I went to the store to finish (read: start...)  my Christmas shopping. As I walked from the parking lot to the entrance, I was approached by a woman selling candy canes. She explained to me that it was her daughter's first Christmas, and she was trying to make money to buy her a gift. Usually, I would simply shrug off the sob story, say I had no cash, sorry, and move on. But this day was different. I gave my standard response,m "I have no cash, I'm sorry...", but I was moved to do more. I didn't have cash, but I had a debit card, and more money than I need. So I told her I had no cash, but if she wanted to come with me in the store, I would gladly buy some gifts for her daughter. 

As I write that, I'm reminded of the example of my father, who is one of the most charitable men I know. I can remember various occasions in my life where my father has given money, time, aid to complete strangers. Whether it was offering a ride to the elderly man whose scooter had run out of power in Mesa, miles from his home in Gilbert, or when he felt compelled to offer a homeless man all of the money in his wallet, my father has always been ready and willing to follow the promptings of the Spirit in aiding his fellow man.

That Monday, I followed his example as I took this woman into the store. We picked out a few outfits, grabbed some binkys, and headed to the checkout line. I remember the gratitude she expressed as we walked and chatted in the store. She told me her daughters name was "Serenity... It means peace." I refrained from informing her I was aware, and simply told her it was a lovely name. At the register, I got some cash back and gave it to her, wishing her a Merry Christmas. As we went our separate ways, I was overcome with a wondrous feeling of love, joy, and pride from my Heavenly Father. 

Mosiah 2:17 tells us:

 17 And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom;

 that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings

 ye are only in the service of your God.

I felt the truth of this scripture that day. I can tell you with a surety that when we follow those promptings we receive from Him, we are tools in His hands, working His will to help others. I promise you, my dear friends, that when you listen and act upon the promptings you receive, you will be blessed, and you will find joy in the work.

With Love,

Taylor

I Know It's True

Brothers and Sisters

Over this weekend, I was blessed to be able to attend the Arizona Regional YSA (Young Single Adult) conference. Many wonderful speakers delivered messages and lessons, on various topics. One of my favorite speakers was Alex Boyé.

Here's a little clip to acquaint you to the man:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVzwkn_ilwA

Alex is a singer from Britain, born to Nigerian parents, and a convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He has multiple popular YouTube videos, and is also a member of Mormon Tabernacle Choir (I actually had the chance to speak to him very briefly this morning, and tell him how jealous I was he got to sing and record with Bryn Terfel, one of my voice idols.) During his workshop, there was much shouting, running around, and in general, a lack of traditional "reverence".

And I loved every minute of it.

While some, I'm sure may have been off put by his enthusiasm, I embraced it, I applauded it. It is exactly the method to bring the kind of spirit I feel most deeply. I, much like Alex, can hardly contain my excitement when speaking on a subject that is dear to me, and my spiritual journey. The moment I want to tell you about came when he was talking about the choir preparing for a week and a half long tour. After President Monson gave a farewell devotional to the choir, the manager of the choir asked members what they hoped would happen on the tour. Some gave answers about hitting all the notes, not forgetting music, and other little insecurities. Then the manager rephrased, and asked, what would you have happen. So, if it was up to you, what experiences would you have God grant you in this endeavor?

Alex went home and wrote a list of the things he would have happen. He related that as he went on, they got more and more outlandish and unlikely. After the tour had concluded, and as he returned home, he discovered the list on the floor of his bedroom. As he read over the things he had hoped for, he was astonished to find that each of them had come true. Every single item on his list had happened on that tour. He then urged us to write down the things we would have happen, and take them to the Father. He then got very excited about what he believed the Father's response would be, which included and incredulous "Do you know who I am? I am Alpha and Omega!" I didn't hear much after that, as he ran to one side of the stand, and began jumping up and down, another moment I loved.

As I sat through the next workshop, I reflected on the challenge Brother Boyé had given to us. So, having brought along a notebook to record impressions and thoughts, I wrote a list of what I would have happen during the conference. I haven't looked at it yet, but I remembered there was something inevitably about a girl, something about making connections, and then a sentence saying I will receive a confirmation of the truth of the Book of Mormon. I, much like Alex, then promptly forgot about the list, until I was talking to my father this evening. We read some verses from the Book of Mormon together, and then proceeded to chat about the gospel. As we talked, I remembered the challenge Alex had given us. I related it to my father, and told him a few of the things on it that had come true, and the one that hadn't: eh Book of Mormon. As I spoke to him, I said how strange it was to me, that I knew other things that seemingly would prove it's truth to me. I also pondered on the possibility that the spirit had already whispered it to me, but that I was not listening hard enough. Just because I received the knowledge that God and Jesus Christ live and love me, and that I knew Thomas S. Monson is a prophet of God by a large spiritual revelation didn't mean this revelation would come in the same strength.

As I thought out loud, I said "It's strange, because I know that all good things come from God, and I know there are good and powerful things in this book. So, by process of elimination, I should know it's true." And then I sat in silence for a moment, as I let the spirit come over me. Tears fell from my eyes as I realized..

I know that the Book of Mormon is true. It is the word of God, recorded by His prophets on this continent 2,000 years ago. That it was translated by His prophet Joseph Smith Jr. under the power and direction of the spirit of God.

Brothers and sisters, I know these things to be true. Not because of any logic of my own, but because the spirit whispered it in my ear. Because I felt the burning in my bosom that accompanies the confirming power of the spirit. What a wonderful blessing it is that I have received my answer. What a blessing it is that He has seen fit to place people and opportunities to bring me unto Him, to improve my heart, and change it forever.

I think of one of these people, one of my closest friends as I write this. Elder LeSueur, and area Seventy and newly called President of the Gilbert, Arizona temple, related a story Elder Holland told in a talk, which I will quote here:

"A 14-year-old boy recently said to me a little hesitantly, “Brother Holland, I can’t say yet that I know the Church is true, but I believe it is.” I hugged that boy until his eyes bulged out. I told him with all the fervor of my soul that belief is a precious word, an even more precious act, and he need never apologize for “only believing.” I told him that Christ Himself said, “Be not afraid, only believe,”12 a phrase which, by the way, carried young Gordon B. Hinckley into the mission field.13 I told this boy that belief was always the first step toward conviction and that the definitive articles of our collective faith forcefully reiterate the phrase “We believe.”14 And I told him how very proud I was of him for the honesty of his quest."

After Elder LeSueur finished his remarks, I checked my phone and saw a message from this friend. We had spoken earlier about me finishing the Book of Mormon, and she stated simply: "You are the 14 year old boy, and I want to hung you until your eyes bulge out." And might I tell you, she tried, with little success. :)

I'm so grateful for the gospel in my life. For the wonderful blessings I receive daily because of my faith and obedience. I'm grateful for those people in my life that lift me up, and inspire me to be a better person. I'm thankful for that dear friend, who has done so much for me in my spiritual journey. I'm thankful for MY missionaries; I love them dearly. I'm thankful for Alex Boyé, and his words that so impacted me. I'm thankful to all of you who are reading this. Chances are that you have also impacted my life in a meaningful way. And, might I add my dear brothers and sister, that I love each and every single one of you.

All My Love,

Taylor.

Blessings in the font

My dear brothers and sisters, I have recently had an experience I am compelled to share with you. 

Thursday, I went to the temple to perform baptisms for the dead. 

Side bar: for those of you not of the LDS faith, we believe that baptism by immersion for the remission of sins is vital to enter into God's presence after we pass from this life. As there are many who never get the opportunity to hear the gospel, we do baptisms in their name. These are usually done by family members for their ancestors, and it does not force the deceased to be a Mormon. It gives them a choice to accept the gospel, or not. We don't convert people after death, that's their decision.

Back to my experience; I arrived at the Temple, and was surprised to see many people in the baptistery waiting to go into the font room. Usually, in visits past, I've gotten in and out in twenty minutes. I spent nearly 2 there this trip. But it was my first experience yet.

As I entered into the font room, I saw a young man who had Down Syndrome sitting on the bench, waiting for his name to be called. It struck me as odd, seeing him sitting there. To be able to enter the baptistery, you have to have an interview with your Bishop to determine your worthiness to obtain a recommend. I didn't understand how this brother could be eligible to participate. Then a feeling came over me: He has every right to be here, he hardly has the capacity to sin. I was satisfied with that feeling, and glad to see him there.

As the wait wore on, some people were visibly frustrated, which is a shame in such a sacred place. Something had happened with the time stamps on the paperwork, and they were going in a strange order, causing a big wait for some. This surely only added to the chatter in the font room, as it was unusually noisy that day. However, when Brother Heaton was called, the young man with Down Syndrome, his brother helped him up and to the stairs, and the room became silent. Not a word was spoken as we all watched this young man struggle up the steps, over, and down the steps into the font. The brother baptizing that day was young, no more than 19, and must have been volunteering as he prepared for his mission. It was wonderful to see the gentle way he led Brother Heaton into the correct spot, and showed him how to plug his nose. After he spoke the words, he lovingly lowered Brother Heaton into the water, taking care not to go too quickly and surprise him in any way. 

A great presence of spirit was felt as I watched this touching example of the savior's love for all his children. Here was this imperfect being, rife with physical challenges and differences doing a service for those long dead. Here is this young brother in his social prime volunteering what time his has left at home to perform this sacred ordinance, and being a perfect example of the tender, caring love the Savior would show were he the one baptizing Brother Heaton.

Everyone who was in the room that day witnessed a marvelous thing. I cannot speak for others, but I know I also felt strongly the love my Savior has for me, and the peace that comes with that assurance. I pray, my friends, that we always be mindful of His love for us, and His guiding hand in our lives. I bear you my testimony that the Savior does love you. That He is ever present, guiding you, comforting you, supporting you through all that you do. That that love comes without exceptions, caveats, or limits. That if we turn to Him in faith, He will always answer with love.

I love you, my dear friends,

Taylor

Baptisms for the Dead

As I lay in my bed, planning my day tomorrow, I thought about the Temple; not an unusual pace for my mind to wander. I love going to the Temple and doing baptisms, although this was not always the case, especially my first time.

I remember being so excited to go when I received my limited use recommend, but I didn't actually know how it worked, or what to expect. Luckily, my oldest sister was in town for Thanksgiving, and invited me to go with her to do baptisms. As I entered the Temple for the first time, I was nervous, but excited. My main focus since returning to church has been getting to the Temple, and I was finally ready, at least to enter a portion. But as I progressed, my nervousness began to turn to worry: I had expected so much more. Not of the building or space itself, but of the spirit I would feel inside the house of the Lord.

I shrugged it off, and expected the spirit would be felt more strongly as I entered the font to be baptized. And when that didn't happen, I expected more during the baptisms themselves. And then the confirmations. But in each step of my initial experience, I had trouble recognizing the spirit's still, small voice. I changed back into my street clothes, wondering why I had such trouble. I was asked later how I felt, and the honest answer was confused. I had built up my expectation of the presence of the spirit to being akin to my conversion experience.

But it wasn't. It was the still, small voice often talked about in scriptures and church meetings. I went in with false expectations, and instead of adjusting to the reality, I let worry get in my way of feeling the spirit. As I've returned time and time again, I've begun to get better at recognizing the spirit felt there. For me, it's a sense of peace and calm that was at first small and subdued, but as I've gotten more familiar with it it has grown into a wonderful relief from my day to day burdens. I was counseled by my bishop to strive to go once a week, but I'm honestly not satisfied going only once a week.

I treasure the time I get to spend in the Temple, and I miss that sense of peace throughout my week as the worries and influence of the world affect me. I cannot wait until I am ready to enter the Temple to receive my endowment, surrounded by my family, my missionaries, and closest friends. I'm close, closer than I've ever been, as I'm just one interview with my stake president away from receiving the Melchizedeck priesthood. I'm preparing myself to be more open to the experiences of the Temple in a full session than I was when I did my first baptisms, and I can't wait until I get to spend time in prayer and contemplative thought inside the house of the Lord. It shall surely be a great blessing in my life, yet another that I'm not sure I deserve, but am more than willing to accept from my Lord.

With Love,
Taylor.