Yesterday while a group of us were discussing our plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas, a colleague of mine said, "The best part of Christmas is the presents." Earlier that morning, I had just finished reading, The Life of Our Lord by Charles Dickens. One of my favorite parts of the book was, "and His name will be Jesus Christ; and people will put that name in their prayers, because they will know God loves it, and will know that they should love it too."
My colleague's statement reminded me of a time when things were especially rough. As I was feeling the different pieces of my life falling apart, I had decided to "count my blessings." While my blessings were still many, I realized that at the rate things were going, the potential to be left "blessing-less" was always a possibility, and somehow I would still need to find hope and joy in life. This realization did not diminish my gratitude for my blessings, but I shifted my focus from the "presents" in my life to the one immutable gift God has given to me and to each of His children: the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus Christ.
This morning I read from the book of Matthew, in the Bible, chapter 3 verse 17 as God the Father introduced Jesus Christ: "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." (emphasis added) I thought about how beautiful it feels to know one of my parents is pleased with me. I thought about the confidence I gain knowing that my Heavenly Father, of all persons and beings, is pleased with me. What a gift the Father gave to His Son in that declaration! God loves Him and we should love Him too.
As we approach the holiday season, first Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, I am filled with gratitude for my Savior, Jesus Christ. Whether I am down in the dumps or on top of the world, the gift of the Atonement--Christ's sacrifice for our sins, our trials, our sorrows, our struggles, our pride, and every other challenge we face--is always there. It cannot be removed. It is infinite and eternal. It lifts me and grounds me at the same time. Jesus Christ is the ultimate gift, for which I give thanks, and the best part of Christmas.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Another year without him
It's Veteran's Day again, and I'm restraining tears as I sit at my desk. It has been just over a year and a half since my favorite veteran passed away. Last year, I wrote this tribute. In 2008, I likely celebrated Veteran's Day with the following conversation.
Grandma: Hello?
Me: Hi Nana, it's me. Is Papa there?
Grandma: Oh yes, let me get him. (Yelling...) Reid, pick up the phone, it's Megan.
Papa: Helllllloooooo-oh!
Me: Hi Papa. Hey guys, guess where I am right now?
Nana: Oh, where, honey?
Me: I'm at the Pentagon. I was just thinking of you and wanted to call to wish my favorite veteran a Happy Veteran's Day.
Papa: Well, I'll say...
That's not quite an accurate account. By the time my commute between school and home required me to wait for the bus at the Pentagon, Papa was rarely at home. He lived in a nursing home most of the time those last few months and I could hardly ever reach him. But we had several chats while I waited for the 10 E at the Pentagon, and I always asked him to guess where I was. They were so proud of me being in Washington D.C. and going to law school.
Today is probably the sort of day when I would try to go for a run from my apartment to the Memorial Bridge only to find out that the trail along VA-27 was closed to foot traffic. I would resign myself to jogging up to the Air Force Memorial and taking in the view of our nation's Capitol. After class I would probably find myself wandering the three miles between school and Arlington National Cemetery to read the same quote I would have read earlier at the Air Force Memorial: "just as fire tempers iron into fine steel, so does adversity temper one's character into firmness, tolerance, and determination." (Senator Margaret Chase Smith, Lt. Colonel, United States Air Force Reserve) I would have searched for a tissue while making my way to the Blue Line.
But I don't live in Virginia anymore. So instead, I'm sitting on the 37th Floor in a sea of skyscrapers with pictures flooding my memory. Pictures of Papa standing in his driveway waving to us, his hand in a flapping motion and blowing us kisses until our car turned the corner; pictures of Papa reading the Christmas story to all of his grandchildren out of the Bible; pictures of him with IVs and a breathing tube; pictures of him from a dream I had just a few weeks ago, dancing at a wedding. Oh how I had hoped he would live to be at mine. Memories overwhelm my self-restraint; I am reaching for a tissue.
Grandma: Hello?
Me: Hi Nana, it's me. Is Papa there?
Grandma: Oh yes, let me get him. (Yelling...) Reid, pick up the phone, it's Megan.
Papa: Helllllloooooo-oh!
Me: Hi Papa. Hey guys, guess where I am right now?
Nana: Oh, where, honey?
Me: I'm at the Pentagon. I was just thinking of you and wanted to call to wish my favorite veteran a Happy Veteran's Day.
Papa: Well, I'll say...
That's not quite an accurate account. By the time my commute between school and home required me to wait for the bus at the Pentagon, Papa was rarely at home. He lived in a nursing home most of the time those last few months and I could hardly ever reach him. But we had several chats while I waited for the 10 E at the Pentagon, and I always asked him to guess where I was. They were so proud of me being in Washington D.C. and going to law school.
Today is probably the sort of day when I would try to go for a run from my apartment to the Memorial Bridge only to find out that the trail along VA-27 was closed to foot traffic. I would resign myself to jogging up to the Air Force Memorial and taking in the view of our nation's Capitol. After class I would probably find myself wandering the three miles between school and Arlington National Cemetery to read the same quote I would have read earlier at the Air Force Memorial: "just as fire tempers iron into fine steel, so does adversity temper one's character into firmness, tolerance, and determination." (Senator Margaret Chase Smith, Lt. Colonel, United States Air Force Reserve) I would have searched for a tissue while making my way to the Blue Line.
But I don't live in Virginia anymore. So instead, I'm sitting on the 37th Floor in a sea of skyscrapers with pictures flooding my memory. Pictures of Papa standing in his driveway waving to us, his hand in a flapping motion and blowing us kisses until our car turned the corner; pictures of Papa reading the Christmas story to all of his grandchildren out of the Bible; pictures of him with IVs and a breathing tube; pictures of him from a dream I had just a few weeks ago, dancing at a wedding. Oh how I had hoped he would live to be at mine. Memories overwhelm my self-restraint; I am reaching for a tissue.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Reading the Last Page First
My grandma and I have a couple things in common. Fourteen years ago, she gave me a book with the following note inscribed in the cover:
Dearest Megan,
This is my very favorite book. I am so happy that you are old enough to share it with me. Read it and tell me what you think. Be sure to read it before you watch the video. Have a Merry Christmas.
Love you,
Nana
I have since read To Kill a Mockingbird four times. Since my grandma gave it to me when I was eleven years old, it has also become one of my very favorite books. My grandma and I also share the habit of wanting to know how the story ends so badly that we frequently read the last page or chapter of a book after reading the first few.
Shhh... don't tell, Meggie, but I read the end already.
Living in New York City, working in a skyscraper, and meeting all sorts of new people is more exciting than any book I've read. If I were to write a novel about my life, I would have to write a series. Childhood, undergrad, and law school each deserve their own binding. New York would be at least the fourth book in my series with chapters such as:
Chapter 1: The Joy of Having Professional Movers
Chapter 2: Ten New Facebook Friends after a Church Dance
Chapter 3: A Broken Escalator and a Pedestrian Traffic Jam
And the current chapter: Implied Warranty of Habitability. I really wish I could see if our landlord turns on the heat in chapter 5, not to mention the other story lines I'd like to know the end of. But this author hasn't figured out the end yet. She's still waiting to write the last page.
Dearest Megan,
This is my very favorite book. I am so happy that you are old enough to share it with me. Read it and tell me what you think. Be sure to read it before you watch the video. Have a Merry Christmas.
Love you,
Nana
I have since read To Kill a Mockingbird four times. Since my grandma gave it to me when I was eleven years old, it has also become one of my very favorite books. My grandma and I also share the habit of wanting to know how the story ends so badly that we frequently read the last page or chapter of a book after reading the first few.
Shhh... don't tell, Meggie, but I read the end already.
Living in New York City, working in a skyscraper, and meeting all sorts of new people is more exciting than any book I've read. If I were to write a novel about my life, I would have to write a series. Childhood, undergrad, and law school each deserve their own binding. New York would be at least the fourth book in my series with chapters such as:
Chapter 1: The Joy of Having Professional Movers
Chapter 2: Ten New Facebook Friends after a Church Dance
Chapter 3: A Broken Escalator and a Pedestrian Traffic Jam
And the current chapter: Implied Warranty of Habitability. I really wish I could see if our landlord turns on the heat in chapter 5, not to mention the other story lines I'd like to know the end of. But this author hasn't figured out the end yet. She's still waiting to write the last page.
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