Sunday, February 26, 2012

The Lens of the Atonement

Remind me to tell you about some thoughts I've had regarding being made pure through the lens of the Atonement of the Savior. 

"I am..."

The past few months have left me an extended amount of time to experience life in ways I never thought I would, namely in the form of a male companion.  It's been interesting learning to share the road I've been pioneering with someone else who is very different from me and yet very much the same.  It's a wildly exciting phenomenon that has been continually teaching me more and more about what it means to love.
        Most recently, I've been blessed (yes, blessed) to see my beau's less-than-pretty sides.  He hates for me to see these sides of him, explains that he's normally not like this, and I just tell him that they're something that I need to experience.  Don't worry, he's not violent, just barks and get frustrated and mad for a flare of time before settling down.  However, I've been seeing these flares of frustration more and more over things that I wouldn't take personally or get to me and when I brought them up in a round about way, it opened up a discussion that we both knew we needed to have.
        I won't lie, I was at an emotional crossroad when we began to talk because I have a very strong line in my sand that myself or my future children will not be emotionally abused, and I didn't know how my beau usually behaved.* My basis for this post stems from something my beau has said in earnest during our progressive talks over the past few weeks.  There's been a great deal of uncertainty that's come into his life in regards to his post with the Navy, his current job he abhors, and future schooling, that he would rather have sorted out by now.  It frustrates him something fierce, let me tell you! 
        When I finally brought my concerns of how severely something that I consider small angers him, his demeanor completely softened.  A sadness and look of disappointment came into his eyes.  Mind you, I had never seen this side of him until some pretty gnarly stuff rocked his world. He told me how his pessimism was worse before he went into the Navy, but something in him changed once he was there.  He wanted to be different because he didn't like what he saw and how he felt. So he changed.  "I'm trying...."  he told me.  "I'm trying."  
        I believe him.  We all have things about ourselves we don't like and when we get to the breaking point where its consume the character trait or be consumed by it, something ultimately happens for better or worse.  But there was something mildly uncertain in his voice, like he didn't know how much he could change.  Combining this with some recent character flaws that I was in desperate need of getting rid of reminded me of several experiences I had previously involving the concept of self worth that take someone from the uncertain to the certain, which is what I felt my beau might be able to use at that point.
        ....I didn't just hear  you groan..did I? (insert laser glare).   Hear me out. 
        I took an elective course in college studying American literature that opened my eyes to the way I see the world.  There was a final small group project the class had to complete and each group was assigned a period of "American" literature (I put quotes because my group's section came from pre-1700) to present a central concept.  The group who had the early-mid 1800s encompassed primarily writings from African-Americans who had either been slaves and were freed or were born into freedom on American soil.  Their presentation revolved around everyone taking a typed one line statement, standing up on a chair and declaring what was written.  Each statement began with a phrase I've come to love since that class - "I am..."
        The concept of saying "I am" not only carries a palpable sense of definitiveness, but an unmistakeable sense of self.  You are declaring that you exist, you are an individual who is cognizant of the right to choose, and your choice has value.  Its a concept I've been attempting to convert my beau over to since I believe that language has value, what you say is invariably indicative of how you think, feel, and are, and honesty in language is paramount.  
        Its something that has recently helped me get over a few things that have come up in life where I was beginning to make choices that weren't getting me to where I truly wanted to be.  It's amazing the peace, empowerment over hopelessness and Heavenly love you feel when you say "I am...".  It's allowed me to genuinely recommit myself as a daughter of a divine Father who has more love for me than I know what to do with and better, loftier sights set for me when I'm humble, obedient, and desiring to bridle the mortal imperfections within me.  So here are some of my "I am..."s and maybe someday you'll write your own that will stand as a credo for You:
         I am a daughter of a living, literal Heavenly Father who knows me 
                   individually and loves me intensely.
         I am kind hearted person.
         I am a smart, virtuous woman of education, means, and faith.
         I am a woman who takes responsibility for her mistakes, accepts 
                   that she's not perfect, but corrects the mistakes she makes.
         I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, a companion, and a 
                  voice of reason.
         I am funny and you will laugh at me and with me.
         I am honest, patient, mostly logical, and somewhat organized.
         I am a dancer, a scientist, and a religious faithful who believes in 
                 being true to your claims.
         I am a learner.
         I am not someone who knowingly deceives another.

There's a taste.  Now go write your own, my other "I am's".

*On the same token, there have been instances where he's frustrated the h*** out of me and we all know how my flares of anger go....  We've been together for 4 months and once the nuance wears off and the biochemicals in the cerebrum cease to wreak havoc of new love, the real learning begins.  I see the wisdom in the counsel to date chastely for a year.