A Fond Farewell.

I was in the living room at my house in Centerville tonight when my aunt called to tell us the news about President Hinckely. I'm not sure it's really sunk in, but I do know that the most touching moment of the night was listening to my brother Spence tell his son Cooper (4) that President Hinckely had died. "What can we do Dad?" he said. "Can we make him better? Can we give blood?" My brother explained the President Hinckely is with Heavenly Father now and that he will be resurrected someday while all of us tried not to cry watching this tiny boy become so sad over the death of a man whose significance he probably barely understands at this point.
I don't really feel like joining a facebook group is the way I want to honor this great man. (I was invited to five.) Maybe a blog isn't the right thing either, but I write so much that is frivolous that I feel like I should at least say something, especially since Jennie already got mad at me for pointing out the "cause's" in the article about him. (I'm sorry, but even in times of sadness or crisis it's hard to turn off the English major part of myself. In fact, sometimes it kicks up a notch at those times because it's easier to be annoyed about stupid things than really come to grips with the reality of the situation. But I digress.) So here we go.
I loved President Hinckley. I felt the spirit that accompanied him when he entered a room on more than one occasion. I feel very keenly the great privilege it was to sing for him more than once while I was in Women's Chorus. I will always find comfort in so many of his words. Last year his admonition to cultivate a spirit of happiness did as much as anything to pull me out of a real slump about a really hard time. I am grateful for his inspired words; I'm sure I will be finding comfort in them for many years to come.
The rest of what he did is so overwhelmingly exciting and progressive that I won't even attempt to address it, but I am grateful that he was the prophet of my youth. Perhaps it's time to take his advice with renewed vigor and make sure that I am standing for something - the right things.
Goodbye, President Hinckley. We will miss you.

Conference Goodness

Okay, I realize that most of the spiritual insights and so forth are not really blog fare, but the more pedestrian aspects of the weekend are. So here we go.

• Hands down best thing ever: "Hit me again, I can still hear you." - Elder Holland
• "Nothing is so bad that whining about it will not make it worse." - Elder Holland
• Elder Bednar's Parable of the Pickle
• "The new benches are just as hard as the old ones." - President Hinckley
• President Hinckley saying that he's in good health despite rumors to the contrary, and he might outlive some of us.
• Whoever quoted the line "Man your ship manfully."
• While watching afternoon session with Jonathan and Sebastian:

Jonathan: Whoa, what's homeboy reading there? (Someone behind President Faust appeared to be reading something while President Faust was speaking.)
Me: Isn't that President Monson?
Jonathan: Um, well, uh . . .
Me: Did you just call President Monson "homeboy?"

• Sebastian Hoffman's comment during Saturday afternoon session pertaining to why none of us were taking many notes: "It's good and all, but I'm not thinking, 'Wow! I need to make changes in my life so I can be more like the Tabernacle!" (Yes, Jonathan, Sebastian and I probably should have been struck by lightning, but we were sitting on the CCCs - conference concussion couches - so we should be forgiven for making every effort to stay awake and alert.)
  

• The text series between Jonathan and me on Saturday night, as follows:

Me: Jonathan, don't forget to man your ship manfully.
Jonathan: Indeed, how could I forget?!? Just work on being more like the tabernacle and I'll man the ship.
Me: Yes, but where will I get an aluminum hat?
Jonathan: That might be tricky. Just be grateful it's not copper anymore!
(We had a discussion earlier about whether or not the old roof was copper because I thought I remembered it being green when it needed to be cleaned. My parents say I'm crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm not funny with what comes next.)
Me: But if it were at least my head would be arthritis free! (Or something like that. My grandma used to wear copper bracelets because it was supposed to ward off arthritis.)
Jonathan: Oh Megan. Wow. need I say more? . . . Wow.

• All of Elder Perry's "We declare to the world"s
• Two words: Yoshihiko Kikuchi
• Elder Uchtdorf: "There is always a point of safe return."
• Sister Parkin asking if there is anywhere in the world where women have more freedom, etc. I answer with a resounding no, not anywhere! I love it.
• The cakes I decorated between sessions on Sunday - one Superman, one Batman.
• Spence: Cooper, what are your ears like? Cooper: "Flappy" (or floppy, depending on how you hear it) proceeds to flap his ears with his fingers.
• Elder Holland's superb use of parallel structure.
• Priesthood session = ultimate ladies night. Yay for shopping and glorified salad bars that boys hate. :)
  

Conference weekend is amazing. I hope you all enjoyed it greatly.

Project C'mon Get Happy

I made a remarkable discovery last week. I think it was preempted by the string of near perfect days here in Provo, but I'd like to think that at least some of it was personal choice and not just the end of the seasonal slump. I found out that it takes effort to be happy, but you can be, pretty much whenever you want.
I know that this is probably not a huge revelation to anyone else, but it was for me. I was reading for my Living Prophets class (good class!) and my assignment was this tiny little talk by President Hinckley called "Each a Better Person." ( Ensign, Nov. 2002 pg. 99) It's a great talk - way more packed into a page and a half than I would have thought possible. But my favorite part was this: "Let us be a happy people. The Lord's plan is a plan of happiness. The way will be lighter, the worries will be fewer, the confrontations will be less difficult if we cultivate a spirit of happiness." (emphasis added)
Cultivate. That's like what you do in a garden, yes? And you can't just stick the plants in the ground and leave them there, especially during one of our gloriously dry Utah summers. I grew up on the remains of a brick yard, and unless we paid attention to our little plants, they shrivelled up in the dry brown clay that passed as a garden plot. So "cultivate" implies some work for results.
So I decided that I was going to try it. And guess what?
It totally worked. I've been in a funk since the ever-so exciting goings on of last semester, and I had convinced myself that I had a right to walk around with a scowl on my face. But why would I? I've forced a few smiles this week and I've had to suck it up a few times when I was faced with yet another midterm or project, but overall, I ended up being sincerely happy.
So I'm still working on it, even though the week of the religion class "experiment upon the word" is up, and I think I'm a fan.
Out of context song lyric of the week: "Please drop the message that I'm picking up my chin at last." -Blue October, "Everlasting Friend"