I know, I know. People hate seeing those words together, but for me, each one helps me understand the other better.
See, all day long I've been perusing various schools of thought about this whole Obamacare thing. Personally, I'm against it. Personally, I think it's a terrible idea. Personally, Obama gives me the creeps. But that's not really my point.
Whilst perusing through various opinions, I found this post speaking out against Obamacare, or those who vote for it at least. On the same site, there was another post speaking out against God for not preventing/stopping the fires in Colorado.To me these are completely contradictory statements.
On the one hand, we have someone telling the government to back off. Your help only weakens us and promotes bad behaviors. You're really not doing us any favors!
But, God, YOU need to help us more. YOU need to protect us from all harm and danger. If you really were God you wouldn't ever let anything bad happen to us.
The same reasons we don't want government to micromanage our lives are the same reasons God has to sometimes let bad things happen. If we didn't, we wouldn't learn anything. We wouldn't grow or progress. We'd just be dependent forever.
So while I am by no means and expert on government, my belief in God helps me to better understand the kind of government we really need. That doesn't mean we stop caring about the poor and the needy at all! We do want to help them! But WE need to help them, not the government. The more the government lets us resolve our own problems, the stronger we will become and the more willing and able we will be to help those around us. The government can send the poor and the needy a check every month, but it can't sit with them and listen to them and truly help them like a friend or neighbor can. The poor and the needy need a lot more than just food and healthcare. We all need to help each other, and in helping each other, we will come to understand God better.
I've come to terms with the fact that I will never be able to stick to a themed blog. It just won't happen. Life is far too random for that. Some days I want to blog about the random kid at the voting polls who shined his scanner in my eyes. Some days I want to blog about the new apartment my fiance just moved into and how I can't wait to move in with him. Some days I want to blog about how freaking amazing God is. Other days want to rant about how dumb people are, in the kindest way possible of course.
So here it is, take it or leave it. This is my blog. I've felt prompted several times to blog consistently and I keep ignoring those prompting because whatever I have to say doesn't fit with my theme. Well this is me drop-kicking my theme out the nearest window. I'm going to blog, gosh-darn-it.
I will, however, add that I have a paper cut on my right hand from my high-risk job of filing papers all day.
The other day I was walking along through campus (tra-la-la) and I saw this guy and I did a double take and thought, "that looks a lot like--nah, couldn't be." I thus carried on my merry way.
Well today I was driving to school and I saw him again! This time I knew my eyes weren't deceiving me. I yelled at him, and he yelled back, but he was crossing the street and I was in my car so the conversation didn't go much further.
But alas, I walked out of my first class and lo and behold there he was again. Mind you, this is a school of 30,000 students. This time I got to talk to him briefly, yet long enough to exchange numbers.
So here's the kicker, I got in my car to leave for the day 3 hours later and guess who I see walkin' down the street. Yep.
So who is the character, you ask? My first boyfriend from 7th grade.
Why am I telling this story? First of all, I mean, what are the chances really? Last time I checked he was in Lubbock and I was in Utah.
Second of all, while I was laughing about the comedy of events, and recollecting the foibles of pubescent romance, I had the horrific realization that 7th grade was ten years ago. TEN! 1-0. How is this possible?
Growing up is the weirdest thing ever.
I walked out of class the other day to find a bunch of people huddled under an awning, on their cell phones cursing the rain they weren't prepared for. I looked over to see a light drizzle falling from the sky. Only wielding my favorite navy, zip-up hoodie, I smiled, popped my hood and walked out into the drizzle of doom. About half way to my destination I took my hood off and just let the rain fall. It was wonderful. I couldn't stop smiling.
Yesterday on my way to the temple, I stopped by LDS Books to peruse a little bit. I walked out with two wonderful CDs and again the rain was falling. It didn't even bother me that I had straightened my hair or that I had nothing to cover my church clothes with. My first reaction was to stick my arms straight out to the side and let it fall.
For most people, their love for the rain stems from the fact that we've been in a drought pretty much all summer. For me it stems from 18 months of walking around rain or shine, getting splashed by cars, with soaked shoes, looking like drowned rats, all to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ that "perhaps we might be the means of saving some soul; and we supposed that our joy would be full if perhaps we could be the means of saving some." Alma 26:30
I'll admit that before my mission I probably would have cursed the rain just like everyone else, especially if I had actually done my hair that day. Now, however, the rain is a sweet reminder of more important things.