Making plans, I hope

Tomorrow has the potential to be a big day. I have been working slowly to get my life in order. At least I want to go from thinking about making plans to doing them. So tomorrow I'm going to the university to figure out information about graduate school and/or a second bachelors degree. I think I'm certainly going to work on my teaching credential but will add a special education component to it. Teachers are a dime a dozen these days; I need to do something to separate myself from the field. It is a big step, to be sure, but I can't just run in place. I moved here, got a freelance gig for some money, but it's not enough. I need to put myself in a financial position to take my children when the time comes. It's clear that Cherie has no clue what she wants to do with her life, and I can't be like that. I can't. I have to have a plan and stick to it and be successful. I will be visiting the kids as soon as I get a tax return. I will spend a week, maybe longer with them, to gauge how they live. I get the sense that it's not the best situation. I want to show them that there is a better life for them. A life with me, where they are safe and secure. To do that, I must make an effort and a sacrifice that I haven't really done. Things have come relatively easy for me, and I haven't had to work for them. I think Heavenly Father wants me to challenge myself. If I do, I am certain He will bless me, in whatever way He sees fit. Stay tuned. It's about to get interesting.

A most spiritual day

Turns out, I had nothing to worry about. I walked into the chapel and sat in the front pew, because that was the only pew, it seemed, that wasn't occupied by members of a family.

No worries, though. It gave me the perfect vantage point where I could listen to what people were saying during fast and testimony Sunday. I told myself that I would not be giving testimony this day; that no one knew who I was or would care what I had to say.

But you have to realize something. It had been months since I'd told many people about my faith. In fact, aside from some close friends and Danielle, no one really knows over here in Fresno, where I now live. So I guess you could say that was a prompting that the Spirit gave me. I listened to people talk about returning to the church and being re-baptized. And this woman who said this really struck an arrow into my stomach. I simply had to go up there.

And you know what happened when I did? I was welcomed up front by the bishop, who motioned for me to sit next to him. He whispered to me, "I'm glad you're here," almost as if he knew exactly how I was feeling. I wonder what compelled him to say that?

I gave my testimony about how I believe being a member of this church, and how my connection to my Heavenly Father has been a great source of strength to me during this time. It's almost as if I could see Heavenly Father nodding his head along with me, like He'd been with me the entire time. He knows exactly what I've been through.

I mentioned what it was like to be in this faith, and that I had been a "Sunday Mormon" most of my time in the church. There's quite a difference between being that and one truly unselfish, spiritual and loving to others and being of service to others and magnifying the Gospel. I'll be the first to admit I didn't do that for so long, and that I still have a long way to go.

I did not give my testimony to receive accolades, or to hear myself talk, or to be a shining example of great oratory speech. I went up there because I felt the Spirit inside of me, so strong and so true. He knows I was scared to go to church, and yet He knows that the chapel, the people and the message is of great comfort to me. There is no denying that.

And then, in elders' quorum, I was witness to the changing of the presidency there. Each member past and present received a blessing. What powerful messages were wrought there! I think I must have had tears in my eyes for most of the service. And then, I walked outside, and I saw the Fresno Temple right across the way from the chapel I'd just attended. What a special sight that was.

And then, later in the night, I was able to share my experiences as a member to a friend I've recently reconnected with that I went to high school with. We spent an hour debating the merits of faith and family. I have to remind myself that it's moments like these that aren't easily duplicated or replicated. For what a blessing it is to share thoughts about one's faith, in a manner that is both respectful and insightful.

I have to wonder if Heavenly Father had a role in that discussion, too. Because I know He knows much better than I do what is inside of me. Maybe yesterday was the perfect day to bring so much of it out.

On a day dominated by the Super Bowl, it certainly was my Super Sunday, of different proportions.

Somewhat scared at what feels right

I will be going to church today. It matters little that it is Super Bowl Sunday or fast and testimony Sunday. I will be going to church.

I have not gone to church since returning to Fresno in October, save for one brief time. I am scared. Scared of what, I don't know. But it is where I need to be, I feel, despite the presence of my family who might be asking why I would forgo greasy food and a six-hour pregame show just to go to church.

Those who ask that question don't or won't understand. It simply is where I need to be. I have missed it very much and want to be a part of something. I want my understanding of the Gospel to grow. It can't do that well if it's not being spiritually fed.

I know it won't be a big deal to go through the chapel doors or sit in the pew, hearing other people's testimonies of Heavenly Father and his son, Jesus Christ. It won't be hard to hear why people feel compelled to get up and talk today, even if they haven't talked in months at a testimony meeting.

I doubt I will say something today. I might want to, but I think it's better to listen and observe, just for once. It's time to reconnect with Heavenly Father, who gave me so much to be thankful and proud of. I may not tell Him as often as I should.

So wish me Godspeed. There's a part of me -- a very big part of me -- that can't wait to walk in the chapel today.

Shedding

It's hard not to get too excited about losing weight. I've done it before, having lost about 70 pounds a decade ago. Well, I gained it all back and then some, just as soon as my body began accepting the greasy diner burgers, all-you-can-eat buffets and 24-hour gluttony bonanza that is Las Vegas.

I also once lost about 30 pounds about six years ago by going to Weight Watchers. Well, the only thing I watched once I stopped going to that group were the french fries going in my mouth.

This time? It's not different, really, except that I have a longer way to go. I have some time on my hands, so it's easier to go to the gym when I want, and not scheduled around available times.

I wish I had the same enthusiasm for losing weight as I do other things in my life. The truth is, I need a butt-kicker to keep me going. It's so easy to slouch toward the epicurean graveyard, such as it is. Way too easy for me.

But it's also easy to look at your plate and figure you could eat a little less. Maybe send the rest you would have eaten -- the money to pay for half the meal -- to Haiti.

This is a weighty challenge, to be sure. I just hope it's one I meet. No guarantees or promises on this one. Just my effort each day.

Constant euphoria

I started writing this blog mainly because I wanted to get my thoughts out on a device on a regular basis. Reading most of these entries, it becomes clear that this blog is almost like a "concept" blog, much like the "concept" rock albums put out by Pink Floyd, the Alan Parsons Project and so forth. They have a story to tell, with crescendoes and arcs.

Anyone who reads this could probably surmise that it's been a rough time since I started writing here. And it has. The constant literal (and mostly figurative) hand-wringing over my situation takes the most precedence.

And so it almost seems counterintuitive to write about positive things in here. But positive things do happen, and have happened to me over the life of this blog. Why not celebrate them? Why not put away the self-loathing feelings I've had for myself?

I say "constant euphoria" because that's the way I've been feeling for a few weeks now. The catalyst for this has been a new relationship, embryonic as it is. And it is embryonic, no matter how long Danielle and I speak to one another each time out. We may sound like the most wonderful people on the planet together; there's quite a difference in dealing with that person in everyday situations -- cleaning the house, shuttling kids, paying bills, eating right, even making time for dates, etc. I haven't had the opportunity to leave the toilet seat up, for example; nor have I drank straight from a milk carton in front of her yet.

It's a complex emotion, what I'm feeling. The heart says one thing, and the brain says something else entirely. Not that the two are fighting; it's just that the brain is, well, to be honest, cerebral. There's more logic involved there than with the heart, if you will.

I'm thinking it's best to let it ride, and let this blog be perhaps less of a "concept" and more of my reality at the moment. That's what it always has been; I just feel incredibly lucky to be in the place I am now.

And there's no shame in admitting that.