A Savior is Born

I’m constantly being reminded that life is not all about “work”. Those who know me - or even met me - will very easily notice that I care about my job immensely. I love working for Jamberry and with everything it’s done for me, the long days, weekends and yes, even holidays, while sometimes difficult, are generally something I’m happy to do, when I think of the big picture. This dedication to the job, however, leaves little time for the “extras”, for my weekends are very coveted and generally dedicated to laundry, cleaning my already clean house (I mean, if we’re being honest here), running errands, or truth be told, giving myself a little “me” time (e.g. nap time). With that in mind, as the end of 2015 is drawing nearer, I’ve been thinking about my 2016 goals and one of them is to start writing again. Oh, how I love to write and I’m not referencing anything to do with emails, action plans, briefings, coachings, reminders, and most especially anything to do with nails wraps! One of the ways I wanted to kick off my resurrection of writing was sharing my love for Christmas. 

I love everything about Christmas time. About 6 pm Christmas Eve, I become about 8 years old again and start dancing around the kitchen with anticipation of what the next 12 or so hours will bring. I love waking up to stockings filled with goodies - and to this day, will argue with anyone who disagrees that my stocking is not the cutest in the whole wide world. I love seeing presents wrapped under the tree. I love drinking Southern Comfort egg nog; or “Christmas Milk” as my mom calls it. I love Christmas decorations. I love the same 10 holiday songs merely sung in a different tune by just about every artist on the planet. I love Christmas dinner - it is truly my most favorite meal of the entire year. I love Christmas movies. I love Christmas lights, especially at night when I can see the way they look against pretty ornaments, the wall, or, if I’m lucky, by a fire place. I love getting frozen into a popsicle in order to visit the Christmas lights at Temple Square. I love the generosity and focus of service during a month where so many others focus solely on receiving. I love the story of the birth of the Savior - the prophesy given from Samuel years before, the fulfillment of such prophesy in both the Book of Mormon and the Bible. I love to read about Mary and Joseph - while it may not be written down, I’ve always had the sense that Mary and Joseph were exceptionally mindful and loving of the other. I delight in the humility and simplicity of that Christmas night, where the Savior of the World came to earth, not as a mighty being, but as a small babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes. It is this baby I owe my whole heart and my whole life. Instead of dedicating the next few minutes to “Frosty the Snowman” or “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”, I wish to share my love for that sweet baby born on a Christmas night years ago. 

I love babies. I love kissing their soft, chubby cheeks. I love their innocence. I love that as I hold them close and look into their beautiful eyes, I am seeing a little bit of Heaven radiating back at me. Still, I am not naive enough to think that that angelic child could ever “save” me. Babies need me to feed them, to change their diapers, to rock them to sleep, to hold them when they’re scared, to talk to them when they’re happy and ultimately, love them unconditionally so they know they are wanted and protected and adored.  At Christmas time, I celebrate the birth of the Savior. I am celebrating the birth of a baby, who at one time, needed the exact same things that I needed. What a beautiful, humbling thought this is for me! A man, born to save the souls of humankind, did not come to Earth with a reception of angels and lights and trumpets, but with the accompaniment of a single, new star, shining above a stable no one wanted, in a manager fit for much less than a King...to be just like me. 

I bear testimony of that sweet baby; for He grew up and lived a perfect life. He was the only person in world history who ever could or ever will.  I believe Him to be the Man of Miracles, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. I believe He was born for each of us; He was born for me. And if it were only me, I believe He still would have done everything He did for each of us. He is our Savior. He is our advocate. He is our friend. With Christmas time in full swing, it's allowed me to stop and think what all of this really means for me personally. There is a quote by Chieko Okazaski (love her!) whose put her idea of this into much better words than me:  

“We know that on some level, Jesus experienced the totality of mortal existence. It’s our faith that He experienced everything - absolutely everything. That means Jesus knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer - how it was for your mother, how it still is for you. He knows what it felt like to lose the student body election. He knows that moment when the brakes locked and the car started to skid. He experienced that slave ship sailing from Ghana to Virginia. He experienced napalm in Vietnam. He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism...There is nothing you have experienced as a woman that He does not also know and recognize. On a profound level, He understands about pregnancy and giving birth. He knows about PMS and cramps and menopause. He understands about rape and infertility and abortion…His last recorded words to His disciples were, ‘And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world’ (Matt. 28:20). What does it mean? It means He understands a mother’s pain when her 5 year old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth grader, when your daughter calls to say the new baby has Down’s Syndrome. He knows a mother’s rage when a trusted babysitter sexually abuses your 2 year old; when someone gives your 13 year old drugs; when someone seduces your 17 year old. He knows the pain you live with when you come home to a quiet apartment, when you hear your former husband and his new wife were sealed in the temple last week; when your 50th wedding anniversary rolls around and your husband has been dead for two years. He knows all that. He’s been there. He’s been lower than all that.”

Lighten Up, pg. 174-175

I was first given this quote when I was a young teenager attending my first EFY. It’s always brought me tears as I’ve substituted Chieko’s descriptions for my own. I would encourage anyone to take a moment and think about "what it means" for YOU. I want to share some of the personal things that that sweet baby we celebrate this time of year experienced and ultimately overcame just for me.  

For me, it means Jesus knows what it felt like lying in a hospital room and being told my life was forever changed by an auto-immune disease, brought on by my own choices. 

It means Jesus knows what it felt like to have to retake Statistics not once, not twice, but THREE times before I could pass. I am my mother's daughter and we do not do math. 

It means Jesus knows what it felt like to feel like nothing; to feel unworthy of love and respect and thereby allow others to abuse and manipulate. This also means He knows what’s it’s like to learn and grow and overcome what once I never felt I could escape. He knows how it feels to feel free, to feel whole, to feel forgiven, to feel peace. 

It means He understands the pain of listening to so many speak of the very thing I want most; a lover just for me and a family just for "us". It means He understands the heartache of cooking dinner, eating dinner, and cleaning up dinner alone and talking out loud just to fill the silence of an empty home (as cute as that home might be). It means He understands how it feels when you really think you’re going to be alone because you feel like no one could ever love the real you. 

I share these vulnerable moments to hopefully exercise the point of the same conclusion I have reached over and over again: we have a brilliant, compassionate, merciful, forgiving, loyal, perfect Brother, who follows in the footsteps of His and our Heavenly Father. It was Heavenly Father, who in His wisdom, crafted a Plan of Happiness which included a very significant birth, on a very simple night thousands of years ago. This is what I celebrate this Christmas season. I celebrate the birth of my Savior, my eternal Brother who knew what I would have to endure and overcome and decided I was worth it. I truly stand all amazed at the love Christ offers me. 

May we all remember the true reason of the season - not the presents, not the lights, not the “stringy potatoes” (though, I would still be very heartbroken if any were missing) - but the Savior’s love for each of us, for each of you. His birth means our safe passage home. His birth means there is nothing that can happen to us that He cannot comprehend and has not already overcome.

I am grateful for that small baby, for He did and does save me every day. I am grateful for His humble birth. I am grateful for His triumph life. I eagerly await when I can kneel before Him again and sing "Hallelujah" to His name. 

Merry Christmas!  

I Need the Other Brother Too

When meeting with my Bishop this past week, we began to have a discussion regarding our undeniable need for the Savior in our lives, including at the beginning, in the pre-existence; now, in what could arguably be one of, if not the most difficult, stretches of the Plan of Happiness; and in the Millennium, in which each of us will kneel before the Lord Himself. My Bishop and I began to express our gratitude for the Savior and how without Him, we would be subjected to the cruelties of the Adversary’s plan; a life filled without Agency, without pure, unquestionable love and without the immeasurable joy that comes when making the right decisions ourselves. We concluded that in spite of the shameless, sometimes brutal attempts to deter every son and daughter of God from the pathway Home; in spite of the hot tears that run down your cheeks when trying so hard to overcome weakness and temptation, or the feelings of loneliness, inadequacy, and defeat every man or woman has or will feel sometime during their mortal experience, each and every one of us needs Satan too. 

I, like so many others, grew up in a good home, with loving parents who taught me the principles of the Gospel and by their example, how to live a righteous life. My testimony had ample opportunities for nourishment and growth as every week, I went to Church, visited with peers, learned of scriptural heroes in Sunday School and the value of Womanhood in Young Women’s.  My love and trust in the Savior was undoubtedly solid by the time I reached adulthood. It is when we reach adulthood, I’ve discovered, that the Adversary and his followers, like to play tricks, confuse, distract, harm, hurt, spoil and alienate. It’s both ironic and frustrating that the older I become and the more mature my testimony grows, it is still so easy for Satan to “get to me”. Why? Why when I know I’m doing good work at my job, I feel like I’m not doing enough? Why when I know I’ve been a good friend, I feel like no one likes or appreciates me? Why when I know I am Daughter to the Creator of Heaven and Earth, I feel as small as a grain of salt? I have a theory, or at least, a theory in progress (consider this the "Gospel of Megan"): Satan knows he was and is wrong. His plan was not God’s plan and would never work.  There was no hope or chance of success. This “failing” makes him angry and while his only success was fooling 1/3 of the Lord’s children in the pre-existence, he hopes to take and make miserable as many sons and daughters, who have already chosen correctly once, down to the depths of his loneliness and self-hatred. It’s because of his own evil pride that he yearns more than anything else to destroy the happiness that comes from following in the footsteps of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. So, it makes sense to me that when we are doing the right things and making the right choices, potholes come into our lives. It makes sense to me that when we decide to go to the temple, our calendars “magically” become fuller. It makes sense to me that come Sunday, you’d rather just relax at home instead of curling your hair, slipping on the Steve Maddens and going to Church. It makes sense to me that society thinks young LDS adults are boring because we don’t party in the traditional ways of the world, substituting beer and alcohol for Root Beer Floats and dance floor grinding [ick! so yucky - talk of personal space!] for Guitar Hero or Mario Cart.  It makes sense to me that when we’re adhering to the Commandments and trying our best, certain thoughts can come to mind that don’t come from the Lord, but from that annoying “1/3” who are just trying to make your day a little harder. 

The follow up question might be then: if Heavenly Father is so loving and so merciful, why would He ever let Satan do such things to His children? The reason in my eyes is simple: it is because Heavenly Father loves me (and YOU) and desires each of us to be like Him. This possibility could not be a reality unless we came to Earth, received a body, endured temptations (which only come from help of Satan) and overcome them triumphantly by and only through the Atonement of Heavenly Father’s begotten Son, Jesus Christ.  What a gift! What absolute love encompassed in such a yearning for each of His children. I thank Heavenly Father; I thank Him for letting me endure temptations, struggle through (and sometimes fail) at trials, because in His infinite wisdom, He knew such failings would occur and prepared a way for me to come back to Him. And all the while, allowing me to be the one to choose such actions for myself. And never, ever would or will He allow us to walk and endure alone. He only required this of One and that One overcame. There is a beautiful quote by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland that reads:

“In the Gospel of Jesus Christ, you will have help from both sides of the veil, and you must never forget that. When disappointment and discouragement strike - and they will - you remember and never forget that if our eyes could be opened, we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see, riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, these armies of Heaven, in defense of Abraham’s seed”. 

-- For Times of Trouble, 18 March 1980

I know that the Savior lives. I also know that the Adversary is real. He does not like us. He does not want what is best for us. He is the Father of all Lies, he is the great manipulator, he is deceitful and he is the epitome of evil. But, he is also necessary for each of our eternal growth. Without him, we would never know the blessings and peace and freedom that come from living righteously and being embraced by the light of the Gospel and the only true Son of God, the Prince of Peace and Creator of Heaven and Earth, Jesus Christ. Without him, we would never know what it’s like to be forgiven and to be clean, for we would never know what it’s like to be dirty. Without him, we would never know what it’s like to be forgiven, for we would never know what it’s like to have sinned. Without him, we would never know what it’s like to feel sincere, authentic love, for the Adversary knows not what such emotion or action is. By the Adversary’s awful, no-good, terrible, sometimes endless feelings evoked on us, we can be lifted up, embraced, comforted, fortified, and ceaselessly loved by our Heavenly family. I do not thank him, but I do recognize that in this part of the Plan of Happiness, I need Satan too; because without having glimpses of the bad could I ever hope to know, appreciate and thrive in the good.

I know that God lives. I know that He allows us these experiences for our benefit. I know that with these experiences can come heartache, and when such pain comes, the Savior and His Angels will never leave our side. We are His brothers and sisters. We are posterity to a Heavenly King and He will never abandon us. He will never forsake us. We are His treasures and I believe He wants each of us to come Home to Him as quickly as we can. Thank you for allowing me to crash and burn every once in a while, because now I know how to pick myself up and positively move forward. I am grateful and need Jesus Christ; I also admit that I also need the other brother too.