On Growing Up

I got carried away the other night reading my own blog. I just kept going further and further back and occasionally I would cringe and think, "Did I seriously say that? That probably made someone mad" or "Oh I forgot I struggled with that. I don't even care about that anymore." It's funny how we live out loud these days. We can't take it back. Although a little embarrassed, I am happy to see a transformation. It's bewildering how gradually we change without feeling a thing. It just sort of happens. Some things smack you in the face, forcing you to grow up right away, but in general, maturity and wisdom come quietly. You don't even notice your new self until you can contrast it with the old. I suddenly have a much deeper respect for the elderly. They have had decades to let the quiet change take root. I should listen to them more.

My most recent quiet change has been a trial of faith. I have been through a mist of darkness, as it were, and I am now on the other side with peace, clarity, and a weightlessness that I haven't felt in years. I've heard it said that some people experience their trial of faith during challenging times of life, and others experience it during times of prosperity and abundance. Mine was the latter. Ever since I got everything I ever wanted--a celestial marriage to a smart, spiritually minded, hilarious and handsome man; a beautiful, healthy baby girl--I have felt my zeal for the Gospel slowly fading away. I knew that I needed to increase my spiritual knowledge and submit to the Lord, but it took a long time for me to actually commit to it, to let my heart be changed. I would study and ponder here and there, and find temporary peace and relief, but I would always slither back into the coldness of spiritual apathy. Over the last year, I have had a steady test of faith that broke the cycle. It sent me lower, but ultimately lifted me higher, and I must say, the view is lovely.