Work in Progress

Rain fell on the pavement all day today. The wind slashed across my face, whipping my hair as I tried to tame it under my maroon Forever 21 hat. The cold precipitation hit my bare legs. I've never thought long skirts were fashionable. My high heels clicked across the tile floor of the bank. I deposited $55 and said goodbye to a friend. I picked up a copy of the Standard Journal and smiled as I saw the front page.  I looked at the clock. 9:52 a.m. It was time to drive to the temple on the hill.

It struck me as magnificent as I slowed to a stop at the intersection of S 2nd E and E 7th S. The sky was dull and gray, yet the piercingly white building stood out against it in brilliant splendor. This was the house of God. The words of a song from last semester's From the Heart program began to play in my head, and my heart swelled with gratitude to my Lord, my God.

It always seems to rain sideways when the closest parking spot is in the next county over. I walked the cement steps, wobbling in and out of my wet shoes. Anxious grooms and excited families swarmed the lobby. Familiar faces greeted me, and I felt that I had come home. This is where peace is. Two hours later, I stepped back into the cold rain, feeling more assured, more filled with faith, more resolute. But like the brilliance of a sunrise begins to fade as the dawn breaks, the feeling of complete trust began to fade into the normalcy of life. A normalcy that is filled with fears, doubts and worry.

I feel that I relate better to Thomas. I doubt when I have every reason to believe. I understand perfectly Peter's zeal and devotion, yet his weakness as he sinks into the sea as the Lord calls to him. "Oh ye of little faith," more often then not becomes my mantra.

In the quiet corners of my heart, I yearn to be mighty in faith like Ammon, Moroni, Stephen, Paul, and Joshua. I want each day to "bind my wandering heart to thee." Blessings and tender mercies are showered upon me daily, yet in return I give my Lord an unwilling heart, and a closed mind. But I know with my soul that the transformation of my life is not yet complete. Indeed, I am a work in progress. A work that should frustrate and try the patience of the best of men. Yet because of the unending love of God, he let's me try again and again. And try I will.

Tonight, the snow falls softly on my windowsill, reminding me that change is always in the future.