"Mission Bound"

This post has nothing really to do with the state of my call or actual mission preparedness. I just wanted to vent really quick about something that has been bugging me for months.

Since I've graduated, the majority of my man-friends have left on missions. Incidentally and unrelatedly, this makes it extremely hard to find a double if I ever want to go on a double date. I think it is awesome that they are going. I'm super proud of them and the choices they have made.

But sometimes I get worried about why.

Because it isn't just my friends that are going. It isn't just the people who have been committed and strong in the church. It isn't just the responsible, hardworking, devout men who are serving.

This doesn't sound like a bad thing on the surface. It can, and often should, be interpreted as those individuals changing for the better. Accepting their Savior. But not always. Something I didn't expect to see was people serving a mission for the attention. More and more often, however, I'm starting to think that social forces and whatnot are some of the primary driving factors in why guys choose to go.

Really quickly, let me assert that I don't think that this is the case, generally speaking, for girls. More girls are going since the age limit was lowered, but the ones that I have seen put in their papers were strong and willing to serve before the announcement.

One of the main reasons I'm starting to be worried about missionaries is the widespread broadcasting of mission related updates, especially on facebook and twitter. Long before they are set apart, people are changing their names to include the "Elder" title. Everywhere I'm seeing #missionbound pop up.

Why?!

On the elder thing, you have been an elder for months. Before that, you were a priest, a teacher, and a deacon. None of those titles made it into your name, and I seriously doubt that once you get back you will keep your priesthood office next to your name. I have yet to encounter someone on Facebook who refers to themselves as "Bishop Soandso" or "High Priest Soandso."

With the #missionbound thing, I know a lot of people will disagree with me. Feel free. But I feel like the phrase projects a feeling of bravado and even a little grandeur that doesn't belong in talking about your mission.

For me, a mission is, or should be, something selfless. If you have turned in your papers, if you have received the Melchizedek priesthood, and especially if you have been through the temple, you have surrendered yourself for God. What you want, what you feel, what you need no longer matters. It is your job to act as an instrument for God and do his work. Your life is no longer your own. It belongs to the King of Kings.

All of that self submission demands humility. Therefore, humility is a key aspect in what should make up the attitude of a successful missionary.

Now this "mission bound" business, at least to me, doesn't have a shred of humility in it. You say that you are mission bound when you want to brag or get attention for yourself or earn social favor. I say this because I first noticed this trend with people who have histories of attention addiction. Then it spread because it worked. I have yet to see a post with mission bound in it, or anything relating to a mission, that hasn't gotten a lot of likes.

So if you want to get people to listen to you, go ahead I guess. And maybe I'm wrong and I'm reading way too much into this. But when you don't see my name change and I only post or tweet updates like where I'm going and my report date, you know why.

"The secret of true religion is religion practiced in secret."

Two Days and Nights of Win

I've had the best couple of days this week.

Day 1:
I'm on my way to work, where we have been mostly cleaning ovens and hotboxes for the past two weeks, when Roman calls me up. For those of you who don't know Roman, he's one of my roommates for summer semester. Really cool guy. Want's to be a director someday. So he calls me up and tells me that he's got a couple of tickets for us to go to a movie as part of the Sundance film festival. We ended up going to see No, which was nominated for best foreign film and was actually really good despite some language.

Win.

Then I get to work. I grab my rag and get ready to attack an oven when my boss walks in and calls us into the pastry kitchen. We move in and he tells us that he needs us to taste test a bunch of new additions to the menu. I ended up eating two fish dishes, a dessert crepe, and then two meal crepes. All professionally prepared. For what would cost a customer about $80. While they paid me to do it.

Win.

I finish eating and get to work, which ends up not involving any cleaning at all. As I'm working, Bishop J texts me and informs me that my mission call is on the way.

Win.

Then I finish off the day by going to a BYU volleyball game with some friends. I spend most of the time trying to figure out what was going on, but once I do it's pretty fun.

Day 2:
Ok, pause day two. Flashback to some other point this week. Some girls that we have never met before come over and invite us to breakfast.

Resume day two. Picture go regular.

I wake up this morning and head over to breakfast. Me and Will decide to run over so we don't have to put on jackets. Brilliant, right? So we run over and discover that the door to the girls dorm is locked. And it is freezing outside.

Will tries to call the girls, but with no luck. I get frustrated, and at the top of my lungs shout, "WOMEN!!!!" And it works. I guess I woke up Becca and, for whatever gender associated reason, she decided to answer the door and let us in.

Win.

We get into the girl's apartment. Now, you know how I have issues filtering what comes out of my mouth? If you don't, I'm a really sincere, genuine person. And I also seem to have a flair for the controversial. So, essentially, I have this unfortunate knack for saying things that sound good in my head, but really shouldn't ever be said. Well this morning was extra bad.

I managed to offend or say something offensive to 5 out of the six girls.

Now I don't regret most of it. Like I said, this was a great day. But still.

Out of my mouth comes spilling things ranging from the direct insult of a foreign country (that really should be a state. I mean, how come we let Canada be independent?) to things that, I have been informed, were racist in nature with regard to the race of one of the girls. I stand by my Canadian sentiments, even if they are really just meant as a joke. Racially, one of the girls we were with mentioned that she was asian, so I asked her, "What kind of asian are you?" In my head, I was harmlessly asking what country her ancestors were from. The follow up of the "Jap" word probably wasn't the most well thought out, but for me it is a shortened version of Japanese, not a derogatory slur.

I also, to my discredit, informed a girl that because she doesn't like Lord of the Rings, I couldn't date her.

Yeah...not my highest moment. Maybe I'll make cookies for her. But really, if you don't like both Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, I don't think we have a future. It doesn't make you a bad person...well, not really bad, but it is sort of a prerequisite trait, you know?

Regardless, I actually had a good bit of fun. I try to keep my controversial side caged up, but when it escapes I won't pretend not to enjoy myself.

Win.

Here's hoping that no future employers ever decide to read my blog.

Church was also great for me. A lot of the guys, me included, totally knew that Evan was going to be made Elder's quorum president, but it was still fun to see it happen, making Elder's quorum fairly memorable.

Win.

I was also the only guy who attended mission prep today. There were about nine girls.

Win.

On the way to church we discovered that there is a girls dorm with a massive Minas Tirith poster hanging in their window. We plan to invite them to second breakfast sometime soon.

Win.

And I just had taco night with my roommates.

Win.

When Hell Freezes Over... It Will Look Just Like Provo

 Right. So here is that real post that you all have been just dying for.

No wait. Ya'll are dying because it's so flipping cold outside. So cold, in fact that I actually did a little happy dance this afternoon when I decided that we might have topped freezing. To the ginger chick who giggled, I say, "At least I have a soul."

And yes, I just said ya'll. I don't know if I spelled it right, but as a child of Tennessee I have an eternal right to say ya'll. And spell in a questionable manner.

But onto business.

The story of my break is actually pretty straight forward. I got home, spent a couple days bumming with Jbear, ended up spending the first weekend in my parent's honeymoon hotel (shudder), and actually got to see Jessica for the first time in months. And the last time for years, sadly enough.

I worked a couple of times, and went on a few dates. I originally intended to go with three, then three may or may not have become four, then it dropped back to two or three. Depending on how you define date. And don't give me that "planned, paired off, and paid for" crap. Intention is more important than any of those.

On Christmas I got some quality presents, but the one that probably takes the cake is the Blu Ray (sp? Tennessee.) extended edition box set of the Lord of the Rings, including over thirty hours of bonus appendices content. Win. I tried to force my family to watch it with me, but my dad didn't have time and my brothers lost interest after it took Frodo an hour and a half to leave the Shire. Thanks for sticking with me mom.

On the movie strain, I saw the Hobbit twice and Les Miserables thrice. I'm officially giving up on the whole review thing, because even though some random website started picking them up, I don't feel like a paragraph or two is enough space for me to deliver anything but fluff. Plus I don't want to spoil movies for people who want to see them. Long story short, I liked the Hobbit, though Lord of the Rings is far better in my opinion, and I loved Les Miserables. The singing wasn't the best I've heard, though it was quite good, but the acting, especially from Jackman and Hathaway was some of the best I've ever seen.

But I didn't cry. Openly.

I also read half of the Mistborn trilogy (love), but Tyler wouldn't let me take the last book with me back to college, so here I am. Writing instead. Trying to forget that it is colder than the ice inside of Voldemort's soul out there.

The funny part is I conditioned myself to be this way. I used to love the cold. Then I met someone who didn't, so I sat in my car with the windows rolled up in the middle of summer for hours at a time to teach my body to embrace heat.

I swear, I'm going to Siberia.

Oh yeah, I'm going on a mission. My papers were turned in to bishop last Saturday and as of this morning they are in Salt Lake. If all goes well, I should have my call by next week.

Think warm, non-french/canadian thoughts.

Jinx.

Ah... Moses.

(does the black spot dance from Dead Man's Chest)

Hard Lessons

Warning: If you are looking for a post that makes you laugh or updates you on what I've been up to, this isn't the post. I might do one of those in the next week or so, depending on how busy I am. This post is, in its very nature, depressing. Don't continue reading if you don't need or want that.

For the past few months I've been learning some hard lessons. Things that it seems like the rest of the world already knew, but I rejected until life hammered them into my skull.

1. There isn't any room for a cynical idealist - Though it may not show through, I actually am an idealist. I just hold different ideals than most people. Sounds like a good thing, right? It isn't. Because I'm also a cynic. Poke holes in things that don't make sense, doubt unless there is evidence reinforcing a concept. So while I hold up my ideals (loyalty, honesty, love, etc) I have no hope that they will ever be accepted into the world. It's a depressing sort of a mind set.

2. People don't really want to know the real you - They may say that they do, but they don't. At least not for me. Maybe you are so awesome that people just love you all the time. In my experience, honesty is not the best policy when it comes to making friends. People want to hear what they want to hear. The truth has very little to do with it. When people ask how you are doing, they don't want to hear you actually tell them anything about your life, they want to hear "fine" or "good" or any number of bland answers that we train into our preschoolers. To the rest of the world, it is better for you to put up a facade and pretend to be someone shallow than it is to reveal the real you. By the way, I recognize that this post violates the rule, in a way. There's a part of me, the idealistic part, that wants to continue to act as if the world was perfect and everyone actually was interested in the innermost workings of your mind even if the cynical part of me knows that it isn't true.

3. Everyone will betray you - This is an idea that I have rejected for my entire life, so I'm not surprised at all that you are probably shaking your head right now. But...my life supports it. My concept of friendship has changed dramatically over the years. In high school I spent most of my time bouncing around between different groups of friends. It was fine, I always had someone to talk to, but there was a part of me that wanted a small, close-knit group of inseparable friends. People I could always count on. People I could trust. In the course of the last year or so the idealistic part of me decided to go for it. I kept my core of friends, Tyler and Spencer, and tried to find other people that I could count on to bring in. This is why I go through and clean out my facebook friends so often (yes, "facebook"not "Facebook." Screw you, guyonthesocialnetwork). Why should I connect with people that won't have my back when the time comes? Everyone will betray you. That isn't true, right? There are people who would never do that to you. Friends flake. They prioritize others. They put their own needs far above yours. And eventually they'll leave. Even your best friends will betray you in the end. The only difference between a friend and a best friend is the amount of time it takes for them to stab you in the back. 

Well, that isn't true. Their knife also goes much, much deeper.

4. Love is when sacrifice ceases to be sacrifice - I've always wondered what love really was. Even though I don't claim to have all of the answers (but maybe most of them) I think I finally understand what love really is. For a long time, I just thought that love was sacrifice. Prioritizing someone else beyond yourself and acting on it. Doing whatever you could to make them happy, even if you were slightly less so. I was wrong. Love goes deeper than that. Love is a point far past sacrifice when the act of sacrifice no longer costs you happiness. Love is when the knowledge that what you have done has made someone else happy gives you more joy than anything else you could have done. When your life ceases to belong to you, and that's how you like it, that is love. When you have lost, and yet found, your self, that is love.

The cynical part of me says that if there is love in the world it is dying. Everyone, myself included, is worried about number one. No one is loyal anymore. Greed is everywhere. Hate is strong. The world is dark.

But the idealist in me continues to hope, continues to dream that someday love will come back and light the darkness. I just hope I can find a spark of it somewhere. Because even though it is small and even though it can quickly be extinguished, a spark can hold back the darkness. A spark can start a flame.