Possibly Insightful Ramblings

In a world that seems to look down upon hope as a naive idea, something only those unacquainted with suffering and reality would ever deign to do, I think it's about time to revisit that timeless ideal. A man in my friend's home ward recently spoke in Sacrament meeting. This brother is a member of the US military, on a short leave from his assignment in Iraq. He serves as the branch president for Iraq. Right--for the entire country. (It likely goes without saying, but he observed that they don't get 100% home teaching each month.) Shortly after his call as the spiritual leader for that war-torn nation, he was pondering the weight and responsibility of his new stewardship. As can be imagined, he felt somewhat overwhelmed. And the surprising impression came to him: "Pray for peace to be restored to this country." Obedient to the prompting, he began including pleas for peace in his daily prayers. After a little while, however, he understandably became discouraged. ...

Friday night I had the opportunity to go up with my family to hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra on Temple Square perform Handel’s Messiah. Having never seen that classic work in its entirety, I was excited for this event. The rich melodies were performed beautifully by all of the performers and I was deeply moved by the text. About two hours into the performance, there was a brief pause between songs as the conductor prepped the orchestra to begin the next piece. All of a sudden, in the midst of the silence, was a single clear note of a trumpet, an entire count early. The reverberations of the trumpeter’s mistake hung in the air of the Tabernacle, and all eyes turned to the bow-tied perpetrator. After a split-second of silence, however, the entire orchestra began playing and that very trumpeter who had come in early began playing one of the most beautiful trumpet solos I have ever heard. I was in awe of his trills and the clarity of the tone as he carried the orchestra on...

Many of you have been hearing a lot about Ukraine in the news recently, what with all the riots and turmoil that has been going on. Not to mention the occupation and annexation of one region of the country. Having spent 16 months of my life walking the streets of that beautiful country, these news reports have held a great deal of poignancy to me. Half of my heart is still in that country, and at every report I hear of a riot, a takeover of a government building, the death of a soldier, I ache. Because I love Ukraine. I love the people with whom I rubbed shoulders for those many months. I love the babushky who sell flowers on the streets. I love the little children running around the parks, chasing pigeons. I love the bus drivers who simultaneously count money, give change, and navigate traffic. I love the warm mothers who welcomed me into their homes and begged to feed me. I love the young fathers who protect their tiny daughters. I love the shy teenag...