I want to talk about something that I struggle with: myself.
In terms of trials in life, some might feel as though I am quite inexperienced. I agree, to an extent. My parents are happily married; there has been only one death in my family that really affected me (I never knew the others who died); we've never experienced poverty; and I've never had to deal with any major injuries or handicaps. From the outside looking in, my life seems peachy. I do feel blessed that I've never had to experience those things. However, this does not mean I do not have trials, heartache, and/or "real" problems. Thing is, they're all on the inside. I am the largest trial in my life. I am the war I rage against.
I feel as though Heavenly Father has given me everything I need to succeed, but stands back a bit to see what I do with it. It's as if He's saying, "Alright, it's up to you. Will you take advantage of this, or squander it?" And not even just success, but service and charity. "Lauren, you have much to give." Now, please don't take this the wrong way--like I think I'm all that or the golden child or something. It's not like that at all. I just know the Lord wants me to share what I've been given.
And therein lies my struggle. I have noticed throughout the past few years that there are two major sides to myself. One is outgoing, exuberant, enthusiastic, kind, funny, and thoughtful--sometimes annoying and overzealous. The other is quiet, ponderous, logical, meditative, and careful--often very withdrawn and indifferent, occasionally cynical. I find myself tending towards this second side, which I'll call Ice (the other will be called Fire, of course).
"I can feel the draw, I can feel it pulling me back." --The Draw
With Fire comes obsession and intense feelings. I get way too enthusiastic or involved in things; so much so, that I almost cannot function. Happiness, anger, sadness, and empathy, all those lovely emotions, sometimes become too hot to touch. I get burned, and it hurts. Sometimes, it is hard to focus on important, practical things when Fire is in charge. That's why I tend towards Ice. Because it's easier not to feel much at all, or very little. With Ice, I can hone in on my goals and plow ahead. But, I also withdraw from friends and sociability, most times without meaning to. On Icy mornings, I might not say a single word until the afternoon.
"You put up your defenses when you leave, and you leave because you're certain of who you want to be." --Icarus
It's been especially hard here at BYU. I often feel like I have little to give, do, or say, so I just don't. It may seem as though I don't care, but I do. I really, really do. There are many things that are dear to me that I don't do or share.There are people I greatly admire who I do not confront. Quite often, this is the cause of my frustration. I will keep those things to myself or not do them simply because I feel it would be easier not to. Then, when someone else does or says what I wanted to, it upsets me. I could have said that! A chance passes by, and I am left empty and regretful. Why do I do this? Am I afraid of success? No. I am afraid of what it may cost. It all boils down to bravery. I want those relationships, those accolades, but I am afraid of the rejection, the effort. I am terrified of failure.
"Do you like the person you've become?" --The Weight of Living, Pt. II
Alone protects me. I am so comfortable, all alone in my little cocoon of ice, but I know I can never be happy there. I yearn for growth, knowledge, friendship, and adventure. I hope to find someone special to share this life and the eternities with. This all requires a sacrifice of the comfortable, the familiar.
"In my left hand, there is the familiar. In my right hand, there's the great unknown." --The Draw
But putting myself out there is really scary! Avoiding the fallback to bad habits is hard. Believing I can mean something to someone is occasionally unfathomable. Still, that Fire courses through my veins, and my heart urges me forward. I cannot do these things alone, though. I must rely on Jesus Christ and His infinite Atonement, for He is the only one who can help me overcome myself. He knows my every weakness; He has experienced them, too. Because of this, He tempers my Fire and Ice, leading me through the darkness when I am blind.
"Walking out into the dark, cutting out a different path, led by your beating heart." --Laura Palmer
One crucial thing the Lord reminds me of is that my flaws are not things to be eliminated. Bastille puts it very nicely when they say "All your flaws... we'll see that we need them to be who we are" (Flaws). They never leave us in this life, but they can drive us to become strong, which is possible by leaning on Christ.
There is great strength to be gained from the Atonement. Fear departs and is replaced with hope, courage, confidence, and even excitement. My heart rejoices because with Christ, I can be both the person I desire to be and the person He wants me to be.
"This is your heart. Can you feel it?"
