2 things that have changed me:
The first is a hymn, it is titled "More Holiness Give Me." It's a very pretty song, and once, when we sang it at church (maybe it was the 1st time I ever sang it, I don't remember), the phrase "more longing for home" struck me. The song is kind of a prayer, asking Heavenly Father to help us to be better in many ways, and the idea of missing the home we used to live in (with God and all our brothers and sisters in His heaven, albeit without physical bodies yet) just resonated inside of me. I realized one of the reasons I feel so discombobulated at times is because I am not at home here. This body sometimes seems so foreign and cumbersome (though I'm sure it will be nicer when it is perfectly resurrected) and this world is tiring and hard. Have you heard the saying, "We are not Human beings having spiritual experiences, we are Spiritual beings having human experiences."? It is true, and since the day I had that epiphany, I have gotten that wish (the more longing for home part). I have longed for Home on so many occasions it makes me weep, not just cry, but heaving-chested sobs, because I long to be freed from the weight of this life. Yet I can find a million things I love about this earth and this life, of course, it's just... not the same as Home.
The 2nd is the scripture phrase that tells us as Christians to "mourn with those that mourn." Mourning seems to be a topic all over the scriptures, check the index in your set and I'm sure you will find plenty of references. Perhaps because Jesus, the only perfect person ever to live spent His life mourning for us and those around him, b/c some of us just didn't "get it". (Discuss) My problem is, for some reason I have taken this to heart. Yet I don't or can't actually mourn with the people I feel for. For example, I am a member of the Hypnobabies Board on Yahoo, and was shocked the first time a grieving mother announced the "still birth" of her baby, or sadder still that the baby had died in utero and they were waiting until she gave birth naturally. I know these things happen in this world, yet when I knew someone (even as distantly as through an internet discussion board), it became very real, and I mourned. I visited a website (Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.org; CAUTION, this is very very sad to see in reality so don't click unless you are ready for it) in which loving, charitable, talented people donate their time and resources to take pictures for families who suffer this particular loss/trial in their lives. It was heart-breaking and heartening at the same time. I saw people who had such love and hope for the future, and such gratitude that this little baby had however many precious minutes or hours on this earth. And I cried those heart-wrenching sobs again and Robert had to come and see what had happened to me, and I just felt stupid, crying for these sweet families that I don't know from Adam (as they say). Yet I always feel I do know them. I know we did. We all lived together with our Father in Heaven before we came to Earth to gain a body and all the experiences we need to grow and become more like Him. No matter how many trillions of us there were, we must have known each other. And isn't it less silly to cry over this which is so real and life-stopping to those it has happened to, than to cry over a book in the twilight series where the stupid guy leaves (stupid guy!).
And now I have become a blog hopper. I jump around the blogs other people have listed on their blogs, and sometimes find an old friend (very cool) and a lot of times come upon the story of someone amazing, who is amazing b/c they face the trials that seem unendurable with great faith and hope for the future. They talk of their love for God and His Son, and how they know their families are safe and have great peace. And I cry some more.
Is this silly or can I just label myself soft-hearted?
The strangest thing is, I NEVER used to cry like this. It took a lot to make me cry, really. I suppose I did the normal amount of teen angst crying, but real deep down sorrow I hardly ever felt. But, honestly, I don't mind. It helps me feel closer to the Savior, to know that I can feel sympathy and hopefully one day truly help someone who I am meant to.
These are just some things I have been thinking of. Sorry for the very stream-of-consciousness flow. Now, go hug someone you love and rejoice that they are with you right now. GO!
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