Meeting my needs

This is not the essay I'm supposed to be writing, but I'm going to write this one first.

Today has been an up and down day. By seven in the evening though, I no longer had the emotional strength to do more than cry. This made me mad, so much so that I kept asking Heavenly Father for comfort and was frustrated when I felt like the Spirit didn't send that as I pleaded for it.

I think often on this quote: "God cares for us and watches over us, but it is often through another person that He meets our needs." (I'm sorry I can't find the citation for that right now.)

This is so true in my life that sometimes I don't even recognize it. But tonight, after my slightly demanding prayers, I recognized the several forms of comfort that came. There were two emails in my inbox from friends offering support, love, and assistance.

Tonight, I was supposed to do a class assignment but didn't have the book I needed. After seeing my facebook post about it, a friend I haven't talked to in nearly a year called to offer me his copy. He was willing to drive fifteen minutes just to get it to me. (My favorite part of this story is that he forget he'd already lent his car to someone. That's charity.) Another friend also offered to bring me her copy.

I am blown away by what these people offer me—mercy and love—and by what they teach me. Sometimes I mistakenly think that while God is merciful the world is harsh. It's true that the world can be harsh. But it's more true that God created the world and all the people in it. God is not only merciful when we are on our knees asking for forgiveness and help. His support and grace and love go way beyond those moments. His miracles don't cease at our amens. His Spirit and tender mercies range throughout the world, snatching us up, catching us off guard, and turning our hearts home.

Canadian Heritage? It sounds as ridiculous as American Heritage really is

"Smart girls like us, we can get at least a C on multiple choice tests without even going to class," I told my roommate, Aneka.

Aneka notified me that while this is true, the test she was about to take was for American Heritage—the most infamously terrible and unpassable class in the history of BYU. This class makes grown men cry. Though designed for freshmen, even a seasoned college student will only scrape by with lots of effort.

More importantly though, Aneka is Canadian. They definitely don't prepare you to take American Heritage in Canada.

Of course, Aneka would study and prepare and nail this test on a normal week. These past few weeks have been anything but normal. She's been distracted by this brown-haired man who has two broken thumbs but seems to love her still the same. In our apartment, we're learning to let love trump all other pursuits. American Heritage didn't stand a chance. All you can do at that point is pray though, since in some realm of the universe, it still matters whether Jefferson declared the pursuit of happiness or whether that came from John Locke.

I was at work when I got this text: "I got a 73! I don't even know what letter that is cause I've never done so bad, but I'm so happy!"

This sign that things work out made me so happy that I started crying right then and there for Aneka who got a C and the boy who can't use his thumbs.