Comings and goings and things in between

I'm feeling a little nostalgic. Today, I got one of my best friends back. Let me tell you, the reunion was a happy one, involving homemade bread, a demonic cat, and mud. Seeing a face you love after a long time of being without it is very renewing. Being without this precious girl for so long taught me a lot about myself and growing up. But, all things I've learned aside, I'm dang glad she's home. And I plan on keeping her on this continent for a long time.

At the same time, I said goodbye to another friend today, one I've known for a long time but have only truly gotten to know in the past year. Missions are inspired, Reader. I believe with all my heart in the work those young men and women do. I plan to be one of them someday. But realizing that you aren't going to see someone you love for a couple years...well, it's jarring. (Sheesh, this is dangerous. I'm talking to you like I talk with my journal.) 

But I want to tell you something. A mission has more purpose than racking up the baptisms. A mission is about furthering the work of our Heavenly Father. If a mission is used spending your time serving and loving people or even helping companions to grow and understand who they are, it is just as successful as a dozen baptisms. The gospel is about love, not numbers.

 D&C 18:15 And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!

You know something about that scripture? That one soul could be yourself.

Friends are wonderful. Love is central. God is good. Life is special. Stopping to think (and subsequently knock out a blog post) can be invaluable. Thanks for listening, Reader.

Photo by Cliff Gull

Was anyone expecting this?

Yes, yes, I know it's Easter, and everyone ought to be expecting an announcement about a new toothbrush, as it is family tradition to receive brand spanking new toothbrushes from the Spring Bunny. I'm sorry to disappoint you folks, but our Pagan Fertility Festival celebrations yesterday were unconventional. We had a Hunger Games egg hunt that can hardly be expected to follow our normal traditions.

But don't mope in disappointment yet. I may not have gotten a new toothbrush, but I started on a new toothpaste tube. It's not ADA approved, which isn't usually my thing. It tastes suspiciously like cheap peppermint and plaster. Yet some misunderstood, understated part of me sort of likes it. I may keep it around and I may let my prejudices and desire for assured personal health get the better of me. But I think I'll give it a chance, at least for a little while.