It’s been awhile. I’m actually so embarrassed I’m blushing. A little.
I’ve been busy adjusting to life in Rexburg. Eric Whitlock and I moved up here three months ago, but it feels like it’s been eight hundred days. It’s been good though. And cold. Oh, so cold. #thisisouterdarkness
But Spring is finally coming. I went running outside, and more than once I’ve left my windows open for some delightful fresh air.
With this rebirth of the world, I’ve promised myself to start anew as well.
We should really make our resolutions for the year in the spring. It’s much more pleasant and far less daunting.
Maybe I’m just admitting my seasonal affective disorder.
The point is, I’m promising myself to open my mouth more.
And by doing that, I’m going to be opening this ancient laptop more.
One of the greatest things about the gospel of Jesus Christ is our firm belief in eternal progression.
I’m never done with my exultation-seeking to-do list.
I can never check off being a disciple.
I’ll never finish daily scripture study or weekly temple attendance.
We’re in this for the long haul, folks.
And thank goodness.
I love that I can look down my life’s future and still see my sweet husband taking me to the temple, and praying with me each night.
I feel great about that.
And so should the rest of humanity.
But we have to tell them.
Share with them this great plan of eternal happiness.
Because it’s their choice to hear it or not. But we have to do our darndest to get them a shot at saying yes.
For my job, I write a weekly column.
Well a long story short, I was standing in the freezing bathroom in the back, praying to know what I could write to meet my looming deadline. And when I say looming, it was 20 minutes away.
God reminded me of this funny story: Opening my mission call at 2 a.m. then bawling my eyes out.
And the response I got was overwhelming. I was shocked.
It reminded me of how poor of a job I’ve been doing lately of sharing my beliefs in any way I can.
So here I am. Trying to repent, with a promise to share the gospel in my little corner of the world.
Because I believe it. And no matter where you live — even if it’s Rexburg — God needs you to do it.