I tend to get
nostalgic when I know that soon I’ll be undergoing some major life changes.
It happened when I left for the mission field. It happened when I
was about to come home. It happened when I finished college and moved to
Wisconsin, and it happened when I was leaving Wisconsin for Texas. I’m
now a short month away from another major change — leaving Texas and moving
back home to Utah. Who knows what this change will bring... Will I
stay in Utah or will it be a brief interlude before yet another major change?
Which old friendships will rekindle and which new friendships will be
formed? What other high points and low points will I encounter in this
next phase of my mortal story? I don’t dare speculate right now...
All that, however, does not change the fact that right now I’m feeling
nostalgic. These last 4 years have changed me every bit as much as the 4
years before that (Wisconsin), the 5 years before that (college), the 2 before
that (mission) and so on… Each of these phases have associated memories,
feelings, people, experiences, joys, sorrows... I think that is how this
“second estate” is supposed to work. We are not meant to be static.
Rather, we are supposed to be changed by our experiences. I’ve made
a few good choices along the way and more than my fair share of dumb choices.
Mostly, however, I made choices that I’m not sure if they were “right” or
“wrong”. They changed me, that is certain. They have helped shape
who I am today. And for the most part I’m at peace with how it has all
gone, so perhaps that is the litmus test I should use. But at nostalgic
times like this, my mind is less interested in speculating about what the
future holds and more interested in remembering
— remembering the people, places, events, feelings and what those things taught
me and how they shaped my current self — warts and all. And perhaps this
stroll down memory lane can spur me to move forward into the future with just a
little more faith. A little more peace. A little more confidence
that God has a plan and that while I’m far from perfect, he has provided me
with the essentials and more to become what He wants me to become...
I was recently
inspired by something written by an old college acquaintance. Everyone
should read it — seriously, this is gifted writing.
<http://katierosebastian.blogspot.com/2014/05/happiness-and-messes.html>
Reading her reflections has spurred me to a similar reminiscence.
I’ve had my recollection antenna on as I’ve listened to my iPod over the
last few days and it has transported my thoughts to some of the most defining
times of my life — both the sweet times and the bitter ones — and helped me to remember.
My iPod’s shuffle
feature mixed several of my playlists together, including songs from my “Sunday”
playlist. The list of approved music on
my mission was pretty short. This naturally led to us listening to the
same few approved songs over and over. Among the approved albums were
those by the BYU Concert Choirs which my parents kindly sent me on my first
Australian Christmas. My favorite song — one that I listened to many many
times, not only for its beauty, but also its power — was “Come Thou Fount of
Every Blessing”. I didn’t know at the time, but have learned since, that
this is a popular one among many different faiths, including the LDS community.
It has remained a favorite for me. I recall a night in my second
area after I’d been in Australia about 7 or 8 months that we had been at a late
dinner appointment. We rode our bikes home after dinner in the dark.
It was a clear and warm night and the stars were as bright as I’d ever
seen. This was also a time in my mission when I was feeling pretty
discouraged. I recall going into the “backyard” (really just a small
strip of grass with a clothes line overhead), laying down and gazing at the
southern cross among the other stars. As I often do, I had a little
conversation with Heaven in my head. I explained my desires to be of
service and of my discouragement with how things were going. I laid it
out that I had no intention of quitting but that I felt very inadequate to the
task at hand. The words of “Come Thou Fount” came to my head —
“Here I raise mine Ebenezer; hither
by thy help I’m come; and I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at
home…here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.”
I felt some calm and
comfort after this and I went back inside to get ready for bed. That was
it. One of countless little tender mercies during those two years that
changed me and helped me remember
what I was doing and why I was doing it.
The shuffle function
later switched to music from my “80’s Hair Rock” playlist. There is a
version of the Scorpions “Rock You Like a Hurricane” that they preformed with
the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra in the background. It’s a great version
of the song. In retrospect I can see that perhaps the message of the song
was not super wholesome, but it was nevertheless a big pump-up song I’d listen
to in the midst of long grueling study sessions. There were lots of those
study sessions in college. Some sessions were productive…some less so…
My memory flashed to a big microbiology test I was studying for. It
was another moment where I was not sure I was up to the task at hand. But
despite my lack of total self confidence, I was blessed to do well.
Another tender mercy. It helped me remember that I have a Father in Heaven who cares about all the
aspects of my life. Not just the missionary and church-on-Sunday parts,
but the academic and secular parts also.
My iPod later
shuffled to my “Easy Listening” playlist and I heard Dallyn Vail Bayles sing
“Better Than I”. I can’t help but pause, close my eyes for a second, and
suck a breath in whenever I hear this one. Whenever I hear it, I get a
wistful desire to be able to carry a tune in a bucket because despite how
awesome I’m convinced I sound when singing with the radio alone in my car,
singing is not one of the talents I was born with. If I did have a worthy
voice, this is perhaps the first song I’d want to learn. It represents
one of the biggest challenges I’ve ever faced, and all of the unexpected yet
necessary downstream consequences. This song was introduced to my by a
dear friend who was “in the loop” during the most difficult part of this
experience as his way of trying to help me learn that all was not lost.
The details here are not important but I again felt small compared to the
demands of the situation.
“If this has been a test I cannot
see the reason, but maybe knowing I don’t know is part of getting through…For
You know better than I, You know the way. I’ve let go the need to know
why, for You know better than I.”
I often find it
difficult to accept life’s challenges and end up playing the “why did this
happen to me” card. It took some time for me to accept that this
particular challenge was not just important, but necessary for me to
experience. I can now look at the consequences of this situation and see
that this needed to happen — that it was all a gigantic tender mercy all along
— even though I didn’t believe it at the time. It helped me remember that the bitter is needed as
well as the sweet to help us meet our potential.
One of my favorite
playlists is “Intern Year”. It has all the songs that we would have
playing in the workroom during my months on Internal Medicine. Intern
year has a reputation of being brutal. The learning curve is steep, the
hours are long, overnight call is terrifying, and all the worst stuff happens
at around 2 am when no one else is around. Also, the attending are
sometimes grouchy, the pager never stops going off, and the patients want
answers that you don’t yet have an answer to. It is pretty easy to get
overwhelmed. My intern year was all of these things – everyone’s is.
As a way of coping we would have music playing in the workroom as we
typed notes, wrote orders, looked up information and organized the reams of
papers, printouts, binders, folders, and EKG prints. The people you are
on service with as an intern generally become very close friends. It’s
hard to be “in the trenches” with these people and not get connected.
It’s impossible to be a fake during these times and so you end up
learning a lot about your coworkers as well as yourself. I learned that I
kind of like rap music. My co-intern is one of my favorite people in the
world. She would bring her speakers and iPhone every day and stream her
favorite rap and hip-hop Pandora stations. After a few weeks we had heard
all the songs several times and we could start to sing along. We all gave
each other rapper names and would refer to each other by these names.
Sometimes in a careless moment, we would call each other these names when
the attending was in the room or in front of a patient. Perhaps not the
most professional thing to do, but no one seemed to mind too much. My
iPod played Chris Brown’s “This Christmas” (my co-intern’s favorite song during
the December we worked together). This song is fine. Not my
favorite in a strictly musical sense, but one with a lot of attached memories —
memories of a difficult time and the people I was fortunate to be around who
helped. It helps me remember
how many times, before and after my intern year, that I’ve had the tender mercy
of good people around me able and willing to help.
Shuffle then brought
up Sara Bareilles’ "Gavity” and then Jon McLaughlin’s “Indiana” and I was
transported back to that car ride and I can remember the physically painful
heartache. I can’t help but sing along because these songs convey what
I’m not eloquent enough to convey. I’m frankly still working through this
one, but its getting better and I remember
that part of what Christ taught he would do is “heal the broken-hearted”.
I’ve felt that before and I know I’ll continue to feel it.
Spencer Kimball once
stated that
“When you look in the dictionary for
the most important word, do you know what it is? It could be ‘remember.’
Because all of [us] have made covenants…our greatest need is to remember.
That is why everyone goes to sacrament meeting every Sabbath day — to
take the sacrament and listen to the priests pray that [we] ‘…may always
remember him and keep his commandments which he has given [us].’… ‘Remember is
the word” (Circles of Exaltation, BYU, June 28 1968)
It’s good to
remember.
Elder Bednar taught
“Faith as the evidence of things not
seen typically looks to the past. Truly, our confidence and trust in God are
strengthened by examples and evidence of His influence in the past. This
element of faith provides proof and confirmation that things unseen indeed are
real. For example, many of our pioneer forefathers were protected, preserved,
and strengthened in the most difficult and demanding of circumstances. The
legacy of faith and testimony they left for us provides powerful evidence of
things not seen. Similarly, a young missionary called to serve in a remote part
of the world, and who may be understandably anxious about his or her service,
is fortified by the faith-promoting experiences of family and friends who
already have served as full-time missionaries in various parts of the world.”
(According to Thy Faith, Ricks College Devotional, Aug 29, 2000)
Finally my iPod
shuffles me back to my “Sunday” playlist and Christina England is singing “How
Can I Keep From Singing”. My heart fills and I catch a small glimpse of
what God wants me to be and what he has done to make it possible to reach that
potential. It’s the perfect expression of how I’m feeling.
Perhaps I don’t feel so
silly for being nostalgic from time to time...
