a note about the weather

I've recently noticed that people complain a lot - myself included. We complain about the weather (no matter what it is), we complain about the amount of sleep we've had, we complain about having too much to do or not enough to do, we complain about anything and everything we're required to do, we complain about the people we work with, etc. I remember a friend at BYU-I telling me that she and her roommates had decided to stop complaining, especially about the weather. It's always windy in Rexburg, and really cold in the winter, so this was a bit monumental. She said that they had decided that saying something once about the weather was commenting (ie. "It's really cold outside today"), but saying something more than once was complaining. I remember thinking that was a really interesting idea.

I've thought more about this since I've been studying murmuring lately. Murmuring happens when we begin to question circumstances, and even subconsciously to feel that we know better. It shows a lack of gratitude and a surplus of pride. Take weather, for example. When we complain about the weather, we are saying that we don't like how things are (aka the weather is not handled as well as we think it should be. We think we could do a better job of it if we were in charge.). Who do we think we are? Do we really think we understand the weather or the effects of it more than the Lord? As Elder Maxwell illustrated, the farmer that prays for more rain and is frustrated when his prayer is not answered as he wishes may not realize that more rain would break the weakened dam just above his farm. We, being less than omnipotent, scarcely realize the effects of what we wish for. As a result, when things don't go our way, even in the midst of circumstances being ordered for our good, we complain. We murmur. The audacity of our pride and arrogance takes my breath away. I think it's time for me to stop complaining.

professional development and Prop. 8

Saturday I went to TFA's professional development. For the last two hours, I was with the group of people that I've spent all my time with for the last 18 months. By this time, we know each other really well. Because we've had to introduce ourselves to each professor in our GMU classes, everyone knows where I'm from, what my home life was like, where I went to school, what I've studied, what I like to do, a few random facts, and of course, the pervasive question of why I joined Teach For America. They also know that I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and that my beliefs are relatively quite conservative.

Anyway, while we were working, the topic of Proposition 8 came up. Several members of this group are openly homosexual, and the discussion became a venting session about Prop. 8. Everyone was pulling up youtube videos bashing Prop. 8 and organizing carpools to the protest on Prop. 8 that was going on at the capitol that afternoon. I didn't say much, mainly because everyone already knew where I stood on the issue, and engaging them in battle wasn't going to change anyone's opinions. Any comments I would have made would have been taken as a personal offense by those who were homosexual and would have only created more antagonism. No one attacked me, either, for which I was grateful, but I left feeling exhausted and defeated, as though I had been arguing with them for the last two hours. It took a while for me to get recentered, and I'm so grateful for the gospel, which offers truth for those willing to receive it, and which no unhallowed hand can stop - not even my colleagues who feel that Prop. 8 is, in mild terms, a disgrace and an unjustice.