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...

Two years ago today, my family van pulled up along a rather nondescript curb somewhere in the middle of Provo, Utah. I was excited. I was terrified. I was completely naive of what the next 18 months would hold. And yet I knew I was doing the right thing. After a final round of hugging, I said goodbye to my family. A friendly young woman met me, took my luggage in her charge, and led me away from my waving parents. From everything I'd ever known. Into a place that would change my world. And almost before the tears had dried off my cheeks, I found myself in a large room full of smiling people. A black piece of plastic was thrust into my hand, and I looked down at it. "Сестра Nay." That was me now. As I clipped it to my shirt, I felt a thrill. This was happening! I was becoming a missionary. Soon I found myself in a tiny, cinder block room with a few other people. The people I would be spending all my time with for the next 9 weeks. The people that would become my dear...

This week for one of my classes, we spent some time in a book called The Belonging Heart by Marie and Bruce Hafen. And an idea from it struck me deeply. In the Japanese language there is a concept designated “amae.” There is no direct translation for this concept into English, but we can approximate it with the “longing to belong” or “desire to receive love.” And, even though we all understand our need for love, our Western society doesn't really talk about it a lot. We strongly disdain traits such as “neediness” and we look down on those who are “dependent” upon others. We praise children who don't cry when they have to leave mom and go to school for the first time. We consider "well-adjusted" those college students and missionaries and service men and women who don't get homesick, who are "independent" enough to not be hampered by longing for home. We're inundated with the feminist rhetoric encouraging women to not base their self-worth on being ...

Nearly two years ago I lived in a place that has become forever sacred in my heart and memory. Although covering only the geographical area of a couple city blocks, the MTC was a place that has forever changed my life. It was there that I learned a language which changed my view of the world. It was there that I found out more fully who I was. It was there that I developed relationships that will last for eternity. And (although it definitely had significantly less of an eternal impact on me), it was there that I became acquainted with John Rutter’s beautiful work, “Look at the World.” Those Tuesday and Sunday evenings spent in choir practice were some of the most sacred times at the MTC as we united our hearts and voices in praise of the God we were called to serve. One week, the piece chosen by our choir directors was this inspiring song. I remember thinking about the words as we sat there, impacted by the magnitude of God’s creations. That was a song I reflected on time and time ag...

Quotes like this make me feel validated in my chosen educational pursuits:  The greatest intellectual revolution in the past 40 years may have taken place in biology. Can anyone be considered educated today who does not understand a little about molecular biology?              - Frank Westheirmer (1912-2007)                     Harvard Professor of Chemistry Good thing I am coming to understand a little about molecular biology.