Joy! Well, actually Dawn.

This morning, my roommate got a good laugh. She blearily walked into the kitchen out of habit to make breakfast and then had to just shake her head, muttering, "I must have one of the strangest roommates out there."

I turned around upon hearing this and was confused why she was giving me strange looks. Poor Kim. She has to explain to me that most people our age don't see a holed cooking utensil and immediately think, "Bubbles."

My excuse (though we both know I didn't need one) was that last week our Sunday school lesson was on "joy."

Kim's starting to get used to me, because she leaned over to peer at the sink and said, "Joy, huh? Well, actually...it looks like you're using Dawn."

But I realized much to my excitement that despite the fact that I'm getting wiser, taller, more gray hairs, and responsible, I'm not growing "old" in the ways that count.

Preparation

This morning, while I was working on the last edits on a philosophy paper, I got lost in thought at how great God is.

For one of the first times, I recognized that He's the one behind a lot of my preparation, not me. I've always said that, "I decided that I wanted to write better, so I decided to write a novel." There was no disrespect intended with that; it's just what I thought.

Now I've got to smile and shake my head at just how blind I was. It took me this long to see God's hand in it. For if I had not done that, where would I be now? It wouldn't matter towards my grade how well I got these philosophical theories if I could not verbalize them better than a fifth grader could. And Prof. Levy even says that most in this class get bad marks simply based upon grammatical mistakes, not upon ideas.

And here I am, because of that crazy idea (placed in my head by the Holy Ghost) I am able to correct my own paper almost at the level of a writing center employee.

Then once that concept kicked in, I started looking and realizing how He's been preparing me in so many ways, long before I'd ever need the skills. Such as with tutoring and all the skills I've had to learn then over the years. Then when it came to teaching a spiritual concept, I did it without thinking until afterwards. Or with music, how recently I had to use all the odd skills I've learned and then some to work with a certain musician. Such as playing 4 different instruments and being able to jump on a few others. Or being able to harmonize with a song I didn't know before, but just by ear on the spot.

It's a little different than being given gifts in the moment you need them. I have a lot of that too, but this is like being actually shaped and slowly molded into the tool He wants me to be.

And not just me, I've been thinking about it and He seems to do it to a lot of people in varying degrees. Heh. Whether they accept Him or not, He's shaping them. That's amazing.

Something Beautiful

Over the past little while something has changed in Carol and I's friendship. A really good change. I'm still trying to figure it out, but either way it's better than it even was before.

So, this Monday morning, we got together for a walk in good company.

I'm still smiling at the memories. We talked about serious stuff, spiritual stuff, funny stuff, important stuff, and not so important stuff. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

That night in prayer, I thanked Heavenly Father for this friendship, but my prayers on that were different from what they were even just one month ago. Back then I thanked Him because I didn't know how I would manage without it.

But this time I said, "Thanks for Carol's friendship. All I truly need in this life is You and if that was it, that'd be enough. But then again, I could live without birds or beautiful sunsets or music, I guess. It'd be hard but with You I'd make it. This relationship is like those things. It's something beautiful... And I'm really grateful for it."

And now that I'm not holding on like a lifeline, things are more relaxed. One of the key things I noticed this last walk was all the laughter. I often couldn't hold it in. And then Carol's laughter itself would make me smile.

It sure is something beautiful. Better than a live aurora and yet, it doesn't have to be spectacular. Some of my favorite memories are ones of us just sitting in Carol's living room listening to music.

During the walk I began thinking of who I was one year ago. It hit me how much had changed. A year ago I was deep in a depression, lost, and "dimmed." Compared with the light and life and direction I have now...

"So much has changed so fast..." I muttered out loud.

I then thought about this friendship and how it changed my life and how it's likely to effect my future with the wisdom I've gained from Carol. One year ago, I could not likely have even imagined a relationship like the one we have already.

So, I turned to Carol, fists on my hips and said, "You know, I blame you for a good portion of those changes."

She grinned and responded to the real meaning behind my statement by saying, "You're welcome." And we laughed because of the wonder of the friendship as well as how it was the tool for a true testimony.

A little bit later, (I think. It's all a happy blur.) I pointed out, "You know, my Mom asked a question that I wasn't quite sure whether to be offended or amused."

Carol said, "Oh?"

"Yeah. She asked me," I threw up my hands in a gesture of hopelessness. "'How in the world does Carol deal with you!?!'"

We couldn't stop laughing for quite a while. Not at my Mom. The question really was valid. But at how funny the question seemed as we walked down the sunlit street side by side as best friends.

Yes, that image of the two of us, so different in age, knowledge, and appearance, and yet so alike in spirit and comradery, walking down the street and filling the air with our laughter... that's something beautiful. Those are the sorts of things that make God smile too, I bet.

"I'll Go Where You Want Me To Go"

There was an amusing moment Sunday night that has continued through today. I went to a hymn singing thing and I was looking for songs that I knew and liked in the book I had. When it was my turn, I requested a song called, "I'll Go Where You Want Me To Go." The Worship Leader pointed out, "Be careful what you sing" and we laughed.

But that made me question my personal sincerity in what I was singing. I thought, "What if He called me somewhere I had no friends or family, job, or house? What if He called me and I had a choice whether or not to go and start over or stay in a comfortable place?" Then it hit me. I already had. He called me to Bozeman and it was exactly that. I was leaving what comforts I had behind. It was a leap of faith and I took it. And ever since then, whenever He tells me to go, I do. I've lived in a place for a week and a half before having to move again because of that. And often I'm blessed to see a little of why.

Then today a song came on just as I was thinking about all of those moves. It was "Walk by Faith," by Jeremy Camp. It made me laugh simply because I had not thought of it that way before, but I was happy to see that I had been walking by faith all along.

An L.E.P.

Wednesday night one of my friends brought up something that made me smile. A lot has changed in my life over the past few months. (In fact, I barely feel I can call it the same life anymore with the transformation that's been going on lately.)

After a bit of talk, she said something like, "I don't know how to put this, but you're such a light-emitting person, Jenny."

I liked that thought in the context of my electronics background because it was just like an LED (light emitting diode). A light emitting person... "L-E-P."

The analogy that started coming to my head was also one I liked. You put an LED into a circuit and the power comes from elsewhere. But when that power comes, the LED lights up (often really bright).

As opposed to say, the resistor which takes the current it receives and often changes it into heat.

Or the capacitor which goes one step further and stores up all the energy it can get for later use.

Or even better, the integrated circuit that can take that power and create something from it.

But I feel like I've been changed into an LED. And so for her to call me an LEP...yes, that makes me smile because it feels right for me to be a light emitting person. Things are finally feeling right.

And if the power source is God, then I'd say the power we get through the circuit is Love.

A Writer

There is so much development to be done on word usage. Even for the best of the best it's like musicianship, you never truly stop perfecting your craft.

Not all too long ago it seems, I started pretty low on the articulate ladder. I was a poor writer and a worse speaker. The only ways I made it through high school essays were rare bouts of inspiration, luck, and help from my linguistically inclined friend/roommate.

Then, there was the first turning point. I wanted to learn to speak. Jo-Anne coached me diligently and still does. Since I did not speak more than a sentence a week for more than half of my life to that point, there was a lot of work to be done. But I was determined to get to a point where I could express even basic ideas through words and therefore progressed quickly.

But as my rhetoric improved, I became aware of a gradually increasing chasm of inability between where my speaking was and where my writing was.

An idea came to me. An idea so ludicrous that had it not been so utterly persistent I could have easily tossed it off.

...write a fiction novel...

I had no experience in anything even close. The closest thing had been a five page long paper for English. And that wasn't even fiction. This suggestion was plum crazy.

So I decided it was a splendid idea.

My first draft of the first chapters... well... I might have a couple of sentences from that time. The second draft, you could tell that I was learning some concepts, but really not even close. The third draft was at least to the point where it could be edited into a passable work. And after all this I've started the fourth draft.

The transition to the fourth has been amazing. By making all these mistakes I've learned so much more than I could have otherwise.

That really came up recently. There have been several papers I've had to write already and several people have called me "a writer." My initial thoughts were the non-verbal equivalent of "...wha?..."

But then I've started reading and looking around. You see, when I was doing all of that development in writing, I wasn't interacting with anyone else's local writing. I had the blinders on and charged forward. But then to my surprise, I had found they were right, I guess I've kinda become "a writer."

I honestly never saw it coming. Maybe that's because I try things without the expectation of actually making it. I guess that's strange now that I'm thinking of how I see others learn. I've got the intention and drive as if I'm going to be the best, but no real hope that I'll ever make it.

Same thing happened with becoming a "speaker," an "encourager," an "artist," and a "composer," among other titles that I didn't actually think I'd attain, I'd just try to learn as much as I could and hope that some of it stuck.

The Second Game

It's an idea I brought up to one of my close friends that's been on my mind tonight. It's a theory that there are these two games of adulthood we were playing, the early one and the late one.

The first game being these early-mid adult years where the game is, simply put, to get degrees and to accomplish stuff. You write books, you write songs, you develop talents, you get letters after your name, you get married, etc.

But then, I thought about many of the people I meet in their later years and I noted the change in conversation and getting to know them.

At my current age, it's obvious people are really looking at how well you're playing the first game. They'll ask, "What are you studying," "What degree are you on," "Are you single," or "Are you published?"

But when I meet adults, often it is in a setting that you have something in common that you are working on together. The conversations ask what you are doing and often not what you've done. So, maybe the conversation doesn't change much, just the nature of the answers. But I notice that I often don't find out what degrees someone has, or what famous things they've done for a long time after knowing them.

And even when I find that stuff out, it seems to matter very, very little. No degree, single degree, quadruple degree, published, mother, past priest... all that matters is what continues to make you what you are.

That's where the theory of the second game comes in. The first game matters because it shapes you, but the second game is what really matters, is what happens when you "deepen."

Like when I was reading about one of my favorite authors, Madeleine L'Engle. I read how she got many college degrees and she was a musician to boot. And I didn't know all the stuff Carol had done in her past when she became my friend. What mattered in each case was who they were then.

So, it's an outer game and an inner game.

And to be honest, in this age group it seems that most of my peers are unaware that there is a second game, no matter whether they are playing it well or not.

It's one reason why I appear to be so patient when it comes to the first game. Because that's not the one I'm focused on playing. I recognize that I may try my hardest and put all of my considerable effort in a pursuit that I may never use again.

Like my Dad. He started out in Nuclear Engineering, but then became a firefighter because it's what he enjoyed. Or Julia Roberts with her veterinary degree, becoming an actor. And Kathy Tyers with her degree in microbiology. I like that, but what I really care about is her flute playing, her writing, and her general spirit. Because those are the things that stick with her.

The funny part is we try to control the first game, but we're obviously not very good at it. And I guess it makes me wonder what I'm going to end up doing and being. I have all of these plans, but something inside me says that they're not going to go the way I planned them.

And with this trust and peace that I'm learning now, that's just fine with me.

Intimidating and Humbling

Yesterday, I was to meet up with a potential Calc student. We didn't know what the other person would look like, we just knew the general area, time, and each others' names.

When I got there, I was having trouble finding her, so finally I went up to the only person I knew (a fellow music major) and asked if she happened to have seen anyone looking for "Jen." Evelyn perked up and said, "No way! You're my tutor?!"

We were both excited since we'd been seeing each other all around the music building and had been starting to like each other. This would be wonderful.

But intimidating as anything for me.

Evelyn is the first violin of the chamber orchestra. A total virtuoso. The sort of person you assume wouldn't have any difficulties or problems because of the musical misconception that, "If you play that good, nothing can go wrong."

And here I was just starting out on violin. I felt distinctly inadequate. How did I dare go about trying to teach her anything? She's a musical genius. It'd be like teaching Einstein how to play the flute.

We worked together that morning and then decided to get together that evening too. Working with someone that I knew was nice for both of us, since it meant that I was extremely fast at figuring out exactly what teaching methods would work on her thought type.

It was that evening, as I was still feeling intimidated and inadequate trying to teach her, when she was stuck on a problem and admitted her feelings.

"You're really sweet, Jen. I feel like you're so far ahead of me and I'm kind of intimidated. I'm a double major too, but in business. And you're a physics major and here I'm just starting out in one math class. It feels like I could never be as good as you are already, you know? Since you're so far ahead of me."

Instead of the expected pride at her words, I felt something quite different. I felt like before I had her so high and now she had come down to my level, but we always had been at the same level in our respective things.

So, I guess it was humbling. After that, things went even smoother than before and we covered a lot of material.

Not to mention had plenty of good times sharing our double-major experiences. Like trying to explain to our other side of the double-major people why during our tutoring session, both Evelyn and I stopped mid sentence to listen to a ditty by a clarinet nearby and then when they were done, finish the sentence and continue to work.

Then my piano instructor (who is a simple astonishing piano player even to the piano players), Asuza Sensei, came over (Evelyn and I met in the Music Building that evening) and firmly pronounced, "Bleh!" at the sight of Calculus. I once again had an eye opener where Asuza pointed out that she was terrible at math stuff. It's funny. I have all of these musicians on pedestals that signify, "if they can play that well, they've just gotta be an all around genius."

It was really good for me to start getting things back in proportion.