Love

My earliest memory of love at first sight was in an apartment complex in Italy. I knocked on a door and a woman opened it. In an instant, it was like I had been hit in the gut. God loved this woman, more than I could have ever understood, and for whatever reason I caught a glimmer of that infinite, overwhelming love. I saw what the Gospel could do for her. I saw her family blessed and sealed in the temple. I saw her turning to God during major trials in life and finding meaning, happiness, and pMy earliest memory of love at first sight was in an apartment complex in Italy. I knocked on a door and a woman opened it. In an instant, it was like I had been hit in the gut. God loved this woman, more than I could have ever understood, and for whatever reason I caught a glimmer of that infinite, overwhelming love. I saw what the Gospel could do for her. I saw her family blessed and sealed in the temple. I saw her turning to God during major trials in life and finding meaning, happiness, and peace.
I opened my mouth and began to share the message that I knew would bring her the happiness and peace she desperately desired.
And then she closed the door.
And my heart, still overflowing with emotion, was torn to pieces.
My companion wondered why I was suddenly bawling on a random doorstep. But that's understandable. She was a total stranger. His heart hadn't been torn out. And yet what I felt was real. Real enough that I'm crying as I remember it a decade later. My heart still burns.
And yet, by the time we had walked down a dozen stairs, my tear-filled eyes had somehow turned bright again, and I enthusiastically told the next person of the same message that brought me joy.
Sometime that day, my trainer asked me how it was that I could feel so intensely for someone I had never met... and, more, how I could rebound and keep going when my heart was so incredibly crushed.
And looking back at his question I realized something that day:
I can love people.
In the years since, I've seen that the world is full of people who love by degrees. Most people aren't willing to love completely. They're afraid of sending the wrong messages, they're afraid of everything. Mostly, they're afraid of being hurt - of investing in others too deeply and then being ripped to shreds by shrapnel when it all explodes in flames.
I know I have been.
And yet.
Loving people is worth it. Even if they never love back. Leaning on mortals is worth it. Even if they always let you fall. Caring, praying, fasting for others is worth it, even when nothing ever seems to come of it.
Because loving people - really, truly, infinitely loving them and caring about their eternal souls, along with the pain and anguish and joy that comes with it - is an exercise in becoming like God.
God loves. He hurts. He rejoices. He cares about the souls of each and every being on the earth... and He dedicates everything to helping them to become like Him.
This morning I knocked on a metaphoric door and had the same experience I had in Italy. Met a random stranger. Felt an enormous amount of love. Shared a message of hope and peace. Saw how the gospel could change a life, heal a heart, and create a thousand hopes and dreams. 
And they closed the door.
I found myself bawling this morning. And yet somehow moments later had the ability to love and care yet again.
I just want to say that it is worth it. People are worth it, no matter how painful the cost. They are always worth it.

Can I hear the music?

Far too often, I find myself focusing on the things that I should do, instead of the joy that the Gospel brings. It can be hard. It can be incredibly hard to dance - perform the actions of the gospel - if I don't feel the same joy that it seems like everyone else feels. But this Mormon message, through its words and unspoken visuals, seems to capture both the anguish that comes from not being able to hear the music, and the joy that comes from dancing when I finally can.I can hear
Far too often, I find myself focusing on the things that I should do, instead of the joy that the Gospel brings. It can be hard. It can be incredibly hard to dance - perform the actions of the gospel - if I don't feel the same joy that it seems like everyone else feels. But this Mormon message, through its words and unspoken visuals, seems to capture both the anguish that comes from not being able to hear the music, and the joy that comes from dancing when I finally can.

I can hear the music. After years of dancing, I can hear the music.

It's Worth It

There's pleasure in playing sports and eating Cheetos. Smiles to be found in throwing pottery and making soap. Laughter that comes from stand-up comedy and rolling down grassy hills.And it's real.In the last few weeks, I've finally organized my business so that, if I don't want to go to work, I don't need to. And along with the crisis of self that entailed I found myself wondering about happiness.I've believed, innately, that happiness comes from the outside. That marriage a

There's pleasure in playing sports and eating Cheetos. Smiles to be found in throwing pottery and making soap. Laughter that comes from stand-up comedy and rolling down grassy hills.
And it's real.
In the last few weeks, I've finally organized my business so that, if I don't want to go to work, I don't need to. And along with the crisis of self that entailed I found myself wondering about happiness.
I've believed, innately, that happiness comes from the outside. That marriage and family and raising kids and marshmallows and beautiful clouds would fill my life with joy. 
And they do.
And that's why life is hard.
Because at some point I have to choose. 
The world offers instant mortal happiness, control, and direction. I could chart out my life, go find a guy, fall in love, get married, raise a family, and honestly find happiness in this life.
God also offers happiness. His joy, though, is far less front-loaded. The joy of the Lord comes and lasts, but only as I become a greater man. Major caveat? Undergoing that change takes enormous amounts of effort and a literal transformation of my soul and heart. And the pathway to finding happiness can seems far more nebulous. And it requires more faith than I could ever imagine.
I just want to testify that it is worth it.
It makes sense to me that a true transformation into a being of joy would require the voluntary submission of every part of my soul. From the simple, easily portioned parts of my soul, to the tough, gritty, almost impossible ones to give away.
That said, I definitely don't relish the surrender of my heart. Being forced to choose between what my heart wants and what my soul believes feels like literally ripping my heart from my chest.

He is Risen

And yet He is Risen.Jesus Christ - the Son of the Highest, God of the Universe, King of Kings and Lord of Lords - overcame death, sin, and sorrow. And through His Grace, so can I.There is enormous meaning in sorrow. There is beauty hidden deep in pain. In torrential, even drowning rain comes some of the most powerful messages that eternity can offer.But some days, the sun shines, the breeze blows, flowers bloom, and God Himself rises from the dead. And somehow, with a miracl

And yet He is Risen.
Jesus Christ - the Son of the Highest, God of the Universe, King of Kings and Lord of Lords - overcame death, sin, and sorrow. And through His Grace, so can I.
There is enormous meaning in sorrow. There is beauty hidden deep in pain. In torrential, even drowning rain comes some of the most powerful messages that eternity can offer.
But some days, the sun shines, the breeze blows, flowers bloom, and God Himself rises from the dead. And somehow, with a miracle that goes beyond any that has ever or ever will be done, offers that same gift to each and every one of us.
Today is that day.
Today is the symbol of rebirth. That death will and must and should come to me - and that I can cast off the natural man and become a new man alive in Christ.
Today is the symbol of change. That I come to Earth an imperfect being and undergo miraculous transformation, through enormous effort... and by infinite grace of God.
Today is the symbol of love. That Jesus Christ suffered so that He could understand my pain. To be a part of my life... because of a love greater than I can understand. He knows me. He knows what it is to feel my pain, and He has carried my grief and can walk with me along the pathway on which He has already traveled.
At the end of the day, the trials I suffer in life are the very things that make life worthwhile. Today is the reason that life is. That I will face darkness and can find light. That I will face death and will find life. That Jesus Christ is the Life, the Light, and the Savior of my soul.
Christ is Risen. May His Spirit be with you today and always.
Happy Easter.

Betrayed

But they had no idea how hurt I was inside.Keeping an open heart is being open to betrayal, to hurt, to loss and overwhelming pain. It's being willing to emotionally invest in people who might never give back, willing to believe in places that may only lead to sorrow. It's not being blind to people's failures, but being willing to believe in them and their ability to change, to trust them, to give them endless chances to move forward and try again.It's a tried-and-true method of

But they had no idea how hurt I was inside.
Keeping an open heart is being open to betrayal, to hurt, to loss and overwhelming pain. It's being willing to emotionally invest in people who might never give back, willing to believe in places that may only lead to sorrow. It's not being blind to people's failures, but being willing to believe in them and their ability to change, to trust them, to give them endless chances to move forward and try again.
It's a tried-and-true method of exchanging love for more hurt than I could ever imagine.
And is it worth it?
Emotionally? No.
I've started keeping track of the friendships I try to develop. And the vast majority end in excruciating pain on my end... usually long before they begin to pay emotional dividends. There is no rational reason for me to share my heart with individuals or the world when for decades doing exactly that has led to pain, betrayal, and realizing that others never really cared in the first place.
In some twisted, or divine, way, though, that same pain has made me a better person. More aware of the pain and sorrow and suffering in the world... and, ironically, it has opened my heart to helping others.
But each time I'm burned I find have a hard time trusting people again. I can trust them to exist, to make mistakes, and perhaps to even bring some sort of temporary respite to life. But can I trust them to be committed? To be honest? Is it wise, or even safe, to give my heart and soul to someone, even when they need it, when so many have crushed it without a word or a care?
That's the thing. Being a true friend to someone requires trust, even in tenuous times. It requires honesty and vulnerability. 
And the reality of the matter is that those will lead to pain... as they have in the far and recent past.
Hence why I am in pain right now.
I want it to stop.
And I could make it happen. I could numb in a thousand different ways - from seeking endorphin highs at the gym to drinking myself to oblivion. And to keep myself safe I could close my heart and simply stop believing in people. 
Closing off to people, and the world, isn't hard... and likely few would even notice.
But that's not what life is, right? It's important to surround myself with good people. To choose my closest friends from only those who have made the same goals and who are committed to being there for me for eternity. But it's also important to love people... to forgive them... and to turn to relationships with the hope that the other person will be there for me - to be reliant and give people the opportunity to be there for me and part of my life a second and a third and a thousand other times.
Dear world, I am hurt. You have betrayed and discarded me once again, when I did everything I knew how... and gave everything I had.
And yet a sense of honor, and need to do the right thing, and whatever else it is, courses through me. Honor sometimes seems masochistic. Why would I jump back into the fray of emotional pain only moments after being destroyed... just because it's the right thing to do?
Because it's the right thing to do.
For everyone else, it seems that the game returns a net positive. And while it may ultimately bring me only pain and misery, at least I can be a friend to someone for a moment along the way... and make the world a little better place. The honor inside me says that my pain is worth less than someone else's... and even if I feel a hundred times more, if I can help someone in need, be there for someone who wants help coming closer to God, then it's worth it.
And I believe that.
God loves and is hurt far more than I could ever imagine. He knows me and my heart. And, thanks to Him... it'll all be ok.

Broken

But often that's not enough to overcome the feelings that undergird the rest.I feel like I'm broken.Specifically, I feel like a real friendship with me, a relationship with me, would never be enough for someone else, unless circumstances 'made' them choose me.There are exceptions. My best friend is there for me whenever I need him... and while we are both broken, we've both put in effort to make the friendship work. My family is always there for me, and one blessing my sibli

But often that's not enough to overcome the feelings that undergird the rest.
I feel like I'm broken.
Specifically, I feel like a real friendship with me, a relationship with me, would never be enough for someone else, unless circumstances 'made' them choose me.
There are exceptions. My best friend is there for me whenever I need him... and while we are both broken, we've both put in effort to make the friendship work. My family is always there for me, and one blessing my siblings have is that we forgive quickly.
But I can't shake the feeling that I'm unique from the rest of my world in an awful, terrifying way. That "I am broken... so the only people who would ever be my close friends are people who are broken. And as soon as they're not broken anymore... they won't be close friends anymore."
Part of me knows that can't be completely true.
And part of me believes it to my core.
I mean, for the vast majority of my life people have come and gone. 
With rare exceptions, people don't usually seek me out to be my friend. The people who do are often searching for something specific that I can give instead of searching for me - they want someone who can listen, someone who cares, someone who isn't going to pass judgment or who can give advice. Which means that if I want a real friendship, I often end up being the driving force. For whatever reasons, it's incredibly difficult for others to take that role. And when I stop driving - whether from being busy in life or depression or whatever - it just disappears.
Sometimes it disappears anyway.
...
So maybe I'm broken. And this has nothing to do with being attracted to men. I have autism, bipolar, and a host of other things - and they impact my life whether anyone wants them to or not. Whether or not I am broken, however, life is definitely full of broken dreams and shattered relationships regardless of who I am and what I face.
I guess the question is this:
What am I going to do about it?
...
I could stop hoping. I've pulled myself out from the world emotionally because it hurt too much more times than I can count. The greatest pain comes when people close to me turn away or leave my life... so I could live assuming that no one will ever stay. Life can still be incredibly meaningful when I forget myself and work for others, focusing on making every moment worthwhile. That's usually my go-to.
I could numb. There are thousands of things that could distract me from reality and help me forget. Drugs and alcohol are obviously poor choices... but exercise, food, video games, hobbies, tv and movies, books, social media, and more could serve as distractions.
And then Mikey calls for help and interrupts my reverie. My family cares for an angel who has lived with us for a decade. We don't know what is happening, but the past few days she's been hallucinating worms crawling out of her skin, and bugs coating the floor. I go up to get her and she's having trouble understanding that it's Sunday, and everyone else is at Church. Yes, I may be broken, but there are people who need help far more than I do. And my ward doesn't start for a couple more hours.
I sit and read to her, and the feeling of worthlessness and aloneness fades away. My problems seem so small and insignificant in comparison. 
And then I remember the compact I made with God when I first felt wholly broken, years ago. I was as low as I could get - depressed, suicidal, alone, and disconnected... wanting only to die to make the pain go away. And somehow in that moment, I found God, and He made me a deal: I promised to spend my life reaching outward, serving others, choosing the right, focusing on making the world a better place... and He promised that in His own way, and His own time, He would meet my needs and make me whole.
I guess that's the answer.
Do my best, try to love people, try to make the world a better place, and trust that God will make it all work out.
Likely I'll forget again. Life will seem rough, people will come into my life and disappear out of it, I'll feel incredible pain and loneliness and frustration and feel broken beyond belief.
But, for right now, I see purpose in the life I live. God gave me life so that I can do His will. Perhaps, from my current perspective, I am broken. But that's ok.
"And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."

...Strengthen Thy Brethren

I was sitting in my bedroom, and my mom came in. She said, "I know what you're going through... and I know what you've done. But I need to tell you that if you don't change you'll lose your ability to help your little brothers."Or something like that.The dream was pretty straightforward - God knew me, knew what I had done (both good and bad), and was warning me that if I didn't shape up I would lose my ability to help other people in the world.At first I wondered how that wo

I was sitting in my bedroom, and my mom came in. She said, "I know what you're going through... and I know what you've done. But I need to tell you that if you don't change you'll lose your ability to help your little brothers."
Or something like that.
The dream was pretty straightforward - God knew me, knew what I had done (both good and bad), and was warning me that if I didn't shape up I would lose my ability to help other people in the world.
At first I wondered how that would happen. Was God going to spiritually smite me, or take away a talent, or invoke divine punishment on my soul to keep me from being around His children?
No. It was much simpler than that.
If I, myself, was not in tune with God, I would slowly lose my ability to see the needs that others have, lose my ability to see their feelings, and lose my ability to inspire them to come unto Christ.
And when someone really needed help, God would send them to someone else.
Not to me.
My own soul hasn't mattered much to me in the course of my life. Whether it's the feeling of, "I'm broken and halfway-damned already" or a piece of bipolar worthlessness speaking, telling me that my soul is in danger of hell isn't new news.
But the souls of others...
Other people matter. And the greatest meaning I have in life is helping other people save their souls.
The thought that I needed to repent so that I could be there for others shook me.
And beginning with the dream years ago and stretching through to now, that's one of the things that has the ability to help me fix my life - to pull out of sin and focus on God - realizing that I need to be better if I want to be able to be there for others.
I've seen both sides of the line. Times when I've made epic mistakes, and both felt unworthy to reach out to others and unable to help anyway. Times when I was able to be there for people and touch their hearts in miraculous ways.
I just want to testify that it's worth it.
Staying true to the gospel - by repenting and coming back - is worth it.
Taking the time to read and study the scriptures is worth it.
Praying to God and trusting Him, even and especially when I don't know what tomorrow and life will bring, is worth it.
It's worth it for me.
But, even more in my book, it's worth it for everyone else.
Perhaps before this life God told me what He could give me to help me help others. Depression so I could understand sadness and sorrow. Loneliness to help me reach out to others. A broken heart to push me to heal those around me. Temptation and darkness to help me share light. It would put me in danger, but if I made it out alive, I'd also be able to help others.
I'm sure I would have said yes in a heartbeat.
Now I just need to make good on the promise I made to Him and to myself.