My New Identity

It's not like it's every weekend that Elder Holland comes to your little corner in Provo, tells you all to "buck up", quotes Bryan Adams, and calls your friend's husband to the Stake Presidency.

(If you aren't a Mormon you might think that first paragraph a little confusing. No worries, e-mail me and I can send someone over to explain it all for you . . .)

There have been times in my life
where I wished for a revival-type meeting--like those of the early 1800's--where we all sing praises and shout amens, in a tent. My soul is easily apathetic, and I find that it takes more and more dramatics to produce a teaspoon of empathy. So when Elder Holland thumped his fists against the podium, raised his voice into the mic, and emphasized words like depths and love, oh did I listen. We all listened.

And then our lives were changed. We remembered. God loves our broken-down limpy selves and desires to repair us and make us whole. It is enough just to endure sometimes. We have beyond-mortal potential--which for some reason--is easy to forget. Giving love away multiplies our capacity to feel it in ourselves.

So here it is the Monday morning after such a meeting, and I am thinking about the scripture "God is love" and I think I get it. So many times during the conference I thought about labels I want on myself. I am a Wife. I will be a Mother. I'd love to be an Author. I thought about desirable adjectives too. Successful. Poetic. Heroic. Today, I am thinking, why don't I just simplify things and try to just be Love?

The new Courtney Love?

***Last night Chup admitted that he missed my friend's comments. He is the boss of my blog, so I am turning them on again. Thanks for wading through my small blogging crisis. Resume yourselves.

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