cope, kenneth

I made an awful mistake a few days ago. I called a friend this morning and cried on the phone as I related what had happened.  He was kind and provided the friendly support I so needed at that moment.

When we finished talking I reflected on the second verse of a favorite hymn, "Each Life That Touches Ours for Good"

What greater gift dost thou bestow,
What greater goodness can we know
Than Christ-like friends, whose gentle ways
Strengthen our faith, enrich our days.

I consider everyone that I know reads this blog to be that kind of friend. Thanks for the kindness and support, my loves.

Even more than Christ-like friends, I'm grateful for the friend I have in Christ.

 

Gethsemane - Kenneth Cope

it's only inspiration when I like it

At a quarter to seven last night, I returned a missed call and was asked to come to the Clark building in half an hour to meet with the bishopric. Obediently I walked a mile to the building and sat calmly opposite one of the counselors who after much smalltalk asked if I would accept a calling as a Relief Society instructor. I happily said yes and scampered home content: I've never had a teaching call, but have been wanting one, and RS instructor is ideal. I would only need to prepare a lesson once a month, and would be able to corrupt my sweet sisters with my version of feminism.

My phone rang again half an hour after I arrived home. "This is Brother Clay," the voice on the other end told me. "I have good news: I gave you the wrong calling." I listened politely to his jumbled explanation and was then informed that instead of being RS instructor, I would be a member of the compassionate service committee, which already has about half the ward on it. It was not good news and I briefly considered apostatizing. I certainly did not plan to show up to be set apart as one of a million members of a do-nothing-committee.

I mulled things over for an hour or two, and by bedtime I had made up my mind. I'm not going to apostatize. I don't believe my calling was inspired, but I'll accept it anyway. Not just with words the way I did on the phone with Brother Clay; I'll try to serve and to do so compassionately, even if my efforts only reach my roommates. Sure, I'm still disappointed. Lamer than getting a lame calling to begin with is getting a great calling and then having it replaced half an hour later with a lame one. On the bright side, this way my bishopric got to see me be enthusiastic. If they had asked me in the office to be on the compassionate service committee, they would have seen me as the slug I felt like last night. Maybe even that wouldn't have been so bad, come to think of it.

Even slugs can serve compassionately, right?

vanity

 

            

My new system of organization involves a "top five" list of daily priorities. Number four today was "get a haircut" and so far it's the only one I have checked off.

This is the first time I've made a major change in my hair since 6th grade. I like it, but am waiting to see how it holds up to neglect. I told the haircutter "low-maintenance" and she accommodated by only using four products and two styling tools.

I own shampoo and a brush. No blow-dryer, no flat-iron, no shine serums or finishing sprays. Tomorrow I'll wash it and find out whether I miss its silky shine enough to turn into a girly girl.

the good life

25 truths

In the middle of February, having been tagged an absurd number of times to fill out 25 things lists, I created one. I titled it "fashionably late" and then I left it in my drafts folder for three more months.

Now it's outdated. For example, number five on my list was "I don't like ice-cream"--but by some bizarre twist of fate, I've gained a deep appreciation for chocolate ice-cream since February and now sometimes crave it. All this after a lifetime of not caring for it in any form other than home-made vanilla with more milk than cream and freshly blended fudge sauce made from scratch.

Encouraged by this change in tastes, I made an effort to be brave and try raw salmon in the form of sushi; it tasted just fine but a lifetime of revulsion got to my throat and I couldn't swallow. Sad.

Yesterday I went back to bed soon after getting up. I've been feeling sick, but the real reason is that I sleep too much. It's become almost a hobby.

When I finally got up, I took out all the trash in the apartment and then tackled the dishes. I washed and dried for over an hour but then one of my roommates came in to help and I abruptly stopped. Five things I hate to be watched doing are:

eating
cleaning
shaving
clipping nails
blogging.

For all these reasons, it's nice to have my own room even though eating in bed has disadvantages like the orange juice I just spilled on my pillow.

I have been eating in my room this morning because the kitchen smells abominable. Last night one of my roommates decided to grind an entire pot of pasta with sauce down the garbage disposal, and the poor disposal vomited it all back up the other drain. Believe me, it ain't pretty. Maintenance promised to come fix it, but hasn't yet. I will head over to the office in an hour if they still haven't come and complain that this really does need to be fixed today. Inspired by this story, I attempted a temporary solution to the stink by pouring baking soda over the whole mess.

But boy am I getting sidetracked. Some things I love to do that most people wouldn't guess are:

physical labor
reading about fashion
learning about childbirth and all related topics
talking to myself
massaging feet.

Five things that make me stare:

cowboy hats (especially if they are black)
dresses
awesome cars
stealth bombers
babies

Five things people don't like about me:

I'm too forceful
I flirt so much no one can tell whether I mean it
I'm lame at parties
I hog pillows
I eat weird food.

Friends, I'm out of random truths. Two random lies:

I want to climb Everest!
and
I love seafood!

Didn't count 25 items? Don't feel bad; me neither.

reflectitious

I came home yesterday to a quiet apartment after a weekend away. In my absence no one had taken out the trash or washed the dishes so the kitchen was a mess but I ignored it. My bedroom was much worse; chaotic from quick packing and a lack of storage space. I added my backpack, violin case, and three bags of food to the clutter and then I tried to sleep in several different places before resorting to earplugs. It felt beautiful to rest. I love afternoon naps because I know I will wake up ready to eat and study scriptures and go back to bed, and then I'll wake up on time in the morning which usually seems impossible.

I had a great weekend in Idaho with friends. I shoveled dirt and played with kids and watched action movies and even went to Sunday School where I was fed false doctrine and reminded not to take offense even though it was kind of offensive. I loved hearing the primary kids sing on Mother's Day and I enjoyed the wide dry fields of sagebrush and the backyard campfire over which we roasted mini marshmallows.

I didn't like coming back to Provo although I felt ready. Provo means school and too hot walks to campus and efforts to make friends now that the ones I had last fall and winter are moved away and leaving on missions. I feel my world spinning today but I am at peace. Life is changing fast and I am changing with it and I think I like the changes. More and more I focus on missionary work although I'm not preparing for a full time mission. I am hungry for truth and the convert I am teaching is myself. I've been told that the gospel's not hard; life's hard. I sometimes think the gospel is hard too, but it is beautiful as well. Today I am developing a series of complex gospel thoughts and questions that all tie together. If I organize them into something coherent, maybe I'll post tomorrow.

puppylovin'

Becca has this puppy for the weekend and brought me over to be cheered by it today. I've smiled and laughed and jogged a lot today thanks to this gorgeous creature:

 

I think everyone needs weekend puppies.