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.