Sunday, December 7, 2014

A Small Rant

I tried to think of a way to make this post insightful and thoughtful. But it's really just a rant, so I'll just call it what it is.

I'm so tired of the immaturity of some guys. I say some guys because I do know some pretty great ones, including my brother and some of my friends. I try not to lump all guys together and say all guys suck (even though it sometimes feels like they do). But I can't believe how childish some guys are . . . especially when it comes to video games.

A friend of mine told me that over the past couple months two guys . . . TWO . . . have opted to play video games all day instead of hanging out with her. Now, to put this in context, let me tell you that this girl is gorgeous, cultured, fun, and witty as anything. She has no problem getting a date and she's one of the most interesting people I know. And these guys had already expressed interest in her and had taken her out.

And then they got a new video game or something and were like, "Naw, I'm just gonna be a hermit all weekend and live in virtual reality. I mean, you're cute and everything but . . . "

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

These guys would rather sit in front of a screen for hours by themselves, than have actual human interaction with an incredible person?? One that, oh, I don't know, they might actually want to have a real relationship with?

And they're not the only ones. I know of and about so many guys who are opting to play video games rather than go on a date, hang out with friends, or (and this breaks my heart) play with their kids.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about having down-time and tuning out once in a while. And video games aren't inherently evil. But this isn't once in a while for most (emphasis on most) gaming guys. It's habitual, and it's ruining relationships. And if they're playing violent games (which it seems like they usually are), that's even worse.

Not only do large amounts of game time take away from socializing time, guys who game regularly have a harder time interacting with others, especially girls. I know of a guy who openly admitted to not being able to talk to girls because all he knows is video games.

It makes me sad. I see so many amazing women who are looking for a real, committed relationship. They're smart, fun, driven, beautiful women. But the prospects sure look bleak when I hear about guys who are sacrificing their futures for virtual reality.


Sunday, March 9, 2014

To Mourn With Those That Mourn

One of the most moving parts (to me) of any movie is the end of the What Dreams May Come.

The protagonist, Chris, is dead and has been on a journey through Hell to find his wife Annie, who committed suicide. After an arduous search, Chris finds Annie in a dilapidated version of their old home. Her mind is broken and she is unable to recall their life together. Chris frantically but unsuccessfully attempts to bring back some of Annie's memories. His mentor tells Chris that he has to leave or he will be trapped in Hell. Finally, Chris "gives up," but instead of returning to Heaven, he ignores his mentor's warnings and decides to join Annie in Hell.

Suddenly we see a flashback to a time after the death of Chris and Annie's two children. Annie is in an institution, unable to cope with the loss of her children. Chris has been desperately trying to help Annie move on and to pull her to where he is emotionally. Finally, when Chris stops pulling and joins Annie in her sorrow, she is able to heal.

It is the act of joining Annie that allows Chris to bring her back each time. That simple act of choosing to be one in heart with her, instead of trying to pull her somewhere she is not, saves her. 

It's been eight years since I watched that movie, and it has stuck with me. I thought it was beautiful and something about it resonated with me, though it wasn't until recently that I really understood it.

A few months ago I struggled with a difficult decision that left me confused and at times distraught. I felt isolated. I was the only one who could make this decision, and as sympathetic as people were, there was really nothing they could do to make it easier. 

I was talking with my sister one day about my decision and crying from the stress of it all. Trying to help, she listed off several reasons why I shouldn't worry and why everything would be ok. Other people had been doing the same thing over the past few weeks, and for some reason I didn't like it. Instead of comforting me, it just made me more upset, though I couldn't explain why. But finally, in that moment, it made sense.

My sister was just doing what most of us do when someone is upset--we give the person reasons not to feel bad so she'll hopefully cheer up. It's instinctive. But I realized that day that that was exactly the opposite of what I wanted and needed.

I already felt alone in making my decision. Having people tell me not to feel the way I was feeling only made me feel more isolated. It widened the gap between how they felt and how I felt because I was essentially being told to change my feelings instead of having them acknowledged and validated. 

I knew that everything was going to be alright. I was stressed and confused by my situation, but somewhere inside I knew that I would eventually be able to make a decision and that it would be ok. I just needed someone to see how hard it was for me and to join me in my struggle so that it didn't feel so burdensome--or at least so solitary--for a little while. 

As I slowly realized why I was feeling frustrated with everyone's well-meaning words of comfort, I explained my thoughts to my sister. She listened, and then she did the best thing she could have done. She just hugged me. She didn't tell me it was going to be ok. She didn't tell me to not worry. She just held me and let me be sad.



A while later I was sitting in church. The topic of discussion was mourning with those that mourn. It's a common enough phrase, and I thought I knew what that meant. But as I reflected on my recent experiences, I realized that I hadn't really understood.

To mourn with those that mourn isn't just to express sympathy for another person's situation. It means joining them. It means sometimes not saying that things will be ok or that someone should stop worrying. It means mourning also--being sad simply because another is sad.

The friend who introduced me to What Dreams May Come lost his father a few years ago. When he told me about that experience, I desperately wanted to express the acute sadness I felt at hearing that he had lost someone so dear to him. But the words wouldn't come. No phrase seemed adequate. So I finally asked him: What should a person say to someone who has lost a loved one?

"Nothing," he said. "There's nothing you can say. But the best thing is probably just to say, 'I'm sorry.'"

Just, "I'm sorry." Not, "It will be ok" or "You will get through this." Just a sincere expression of sadness because the other person is sad.

Christ did this perfectly when Mary told Him of Lazarus's death.

John 11



Yes, Jesus loved Lazarus. But He also loved Mary and Martha. When He saw how troubled they and their friends were, His spirit groaned and He was troubled too. He was sad because they were sad. Even though He had already told Martha that Lazarus would rise again, He mourned because they mourned.

When we genuinely mourn with those who mourn, we emulate the Savior. By joining them, we join Him in service.

I suppose I first learned something about this principle from a movie. But the moment I really understood it was when my sister put her arms around me and I felt my fears, worries, and sadness melting away. In her emulation of the Savior, she taught me an important lesson. Sometimes, instead of trying to pull someone away from their concerns and fears, we should just join them.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Two Huge Stuffed Animals, Roses, and a Balloon

As I was driving into my neighborhood, I saw a short, skinny kid with a huge afro walking happily down the sidewalk carrying not one, but two HUGE stuffed animals, an enormous bouquet of roses, and a big, shiny, red balloon.

That's how it should be.

No beating around the bush. No games. No ambiguous texts or cryptic Facebook posts. No trying to play it cool. No guessing. No confusion.

Just an obvious, confident Hey, I like (or love) you. Enough to walk down the streets of Provo carrying two huge stuffed animals, roses, and a shiny balloon.

Yep, that's how it should be.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Love this. Written by a mother of one who would love to have more children but hasn't been able to so far. It applies to any situation though. More on this later.

"So trust me when I say you can be content. You can have joy and you have peace knowing that really, it’s out of your hands. Don’t live your life in desperation and jealousy. It will eat your soul. It will kill your marriage and it will destroy your friendships. Love the life that you have now regardless of whether or not it’s exactly what you imagined it would be. Sometimes life works out the way you want it to and something is doesn’t. It’s sucks. It’s lame and it’s painful but you have a choice. You can allow yourself to be sucked into self pity and depression or you can be content always. No matter what. And be filled with joy and excitement about your life."

Chispas


Chispas: Spanish for "sparks"

Sparks of thought. Something that sparks a question. Sparking a conversation.



Other possible uses:

Chispas (slang): "Dang it!"

Ex: "Chispas! Reading that post was such a waste."


Welcome to Chispas. :-)