Posts

Empathy

This week, for the first time, I actually asked God to not take my trial of anxiety away. I am taking an online writing class this summer to catch up in my major so that I can graduate in two years. For the class I have to write a research paper, and I decided to write it on the way fiction effects the development of empathy. In the course of doing research for it, I stumbled upon an article that talked about how people who have  successfully navigating a trial aren't necessarily better at having empathy for people who are currently struggling with the same trial. This is because people who have been through the trial often forget how hard it was, and judge people who are currently struggling on how well they are coping. This got me thinking, and I realized that currently a lot of my ability to understand and help people comes from my constant struggling with anxiety. I can't look down on other people who are struggling because I still do every day. I am getting better, but...

Comparison

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When I am running, I have a very bad habit of comparing myself to the other runners. It comes from the self-conscious feeling that I am not good enough or dedicated enough to call myself a runner. My mom calls it impostor syndrome. Basically, I always feel like I am not "really" a runner unless I run more regularly, faster, or look like I'm doing a hard run. This, unfortunately, leads me to compare myself to the other runners I see on the trail with me, asking myself if they have been running longer than me, or if they are judging me for not going fast enough, or if they think that I am not wearing the proper clothing. What is absolutely hilarious about this thought process is that I have no way of knowing where in their run the other person is, so there is no way I can legitimately compare myself to them. Maybe they don't look tired because they just started. Maybe they are faster than me because they are only running two miles. Maybe they are slow and tired becaus...

Night Changes

Last Monday, I decided to change my major. I had been applying for the nursing program, a very competitive program at BYU, and had decided that I wanted to be a nurse. However, the more I worked on my application, the more wrong it felt. I have been volunteering for a lot of different things that have to do with mental health, and I love what I have been doing. I realized that if I did the nursing program I would have to stop doing almost all of them because the nursing program is very rigorous. I want to go to graduate school in mental health, and I realized that if I went through the nursing program and then became Mental Health Nurse Practitioner, I would miss out on a bunch of experiences that would prepare me for a career in Mental Health, and help me get into graduate school. Not only that, but it would take me a year longer to graduate. I realized that all I really wanted to do was become a therapist. I want to help other people in the way that I have been helped, and it is wher...

Love is a choice

The older I've gotten, the more I am convinced that love is a choice. Everyone has beautiful and divine parts to them, and love is choosing to overlook the bad parts and see the good. I think too much in our culture we confuse it with a feeling, giving rise to the idea that one can fall out of love. But, in my opinion, "falling out of love" is simply seeing the bad in a person instead of the good, and using that as an excuse to stop communicating and stop trying in a relationship. That said, because love is not a feeling, it is possible to love someone and be annoyed at them. It's possible to love someone and be frustrated or mad at them. Love is not a feeling, so feelings can coexist with it. Just because you love your family doesn't mean that you are never going to be upset when your brother breaks something of yours or if your sister borrows something without asking. These kind of frustrations are normal in a relationship, but love is choosing to see the good...

The Sparrow's Fall

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God notices us and our needs. This week I got a 71% on my Physiology test, and this was devastating to me. I have been doing a lot: I had a job working 20 hours a week at 4 am, I was volunteering at the hospital, part of the student outreach council, and working at the temple, taking 14 credit hours and spending every other available moment working on my relationships. I felt like I had neither the spare time or energy to put even more effort into my Physiology class so that I could actually do well in the course. Chipping Sparrow John James Audubon On Wednesday, I had class at 1 and we were going to have an in class quiz. It was 12, and I was in the Jessie Knight building trying to figure out what the material was that we had learned on Monday because I had been sick. I was crying on the phone to my mom, and she that she needed to go, but for me to call my friend in the class for help and then call her back. I hung up, and immediately started freaking out. I felt unable to ask t...

A Personal Witness of Christ

For those of you who know me well, you know that last semester was difficult for me. When I stopped writing last semester, a girl had just committed suicide on BYU campus, and this greatly upset me. I have struggled with anxiety for a while, and I related to her too well. The last month or two have been ones of healing, and I have learned to see God's hand in my life more than ever before. I become a temple worker on Saturday afternoons, and started volunteering at a hospital. I learned to simplify, and how to just hang on when I having bad days. I prayed intensely, and have seen many miracles. As I was reading John 1 this morning, I realized that, like John, I also have something important to share. I have a personal witness of Christ. A testimony hard won through experience. I know that Christ is my Redeemer! As a consequence of being a constant worrier, I don't have very much that I am always certain of. Growing up, I had every question in the book about the gospel. I had ...

Finding the Sublime

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In my German class we have been learning about romanticism and the sublime. In romanticism, sublime means something that is beautiful, but terrifying and mysterious at the same time. It is the feeling you get when you are standing on a cliff peering over the edge. I feel like this is much the way life is sometimes. There is something sublime in the trials we go through, and something beautiful in the pain of a fallen world. This week I have come to understand and love the sublime as I have struggled. Most of you probably already know the specifics of the difficulties I have had this past week, and I don't want to belabor the point. I just know that I have begun to learn not to ask God why somethings is happening, but rather "How can I learn wisdom from this?" and "How do I accomplish the things that thou hast commanded me to do?" There are a lot of troubles going around in the world, and these are my trials and temptations to bear. God will help me, but He i...