Skies I'm Under

Last week, I had the exquisite pleasure of updating the music on my iPod. I uploaded the new (well, as new as last year can be considered) Mumford & Sons album Babel. One particular song I'd liked for a while, "Hopeless Wanderer", took on a new significance while I was out running one evening.

As I am wont to do these days, I had been daydreaming of my new life at BYU when the line "I will learn to love the skies I'm under" forced its way into my consciousness.

It made me realize that if I do not learn to appreciate where I am now--literally and figuratively--I will never be happy anywhere. Certainly a sobering thought for one who has longingly looked to the future all her life. This reminds me of what I frequently told myself last summer, that I must enjoy the little things, the little moments. And I do. On the drives to work, I notice the ever-changing sky, the verdant fields, and that relaxed way of life characteristic of mid July mornings. At the same time I try not to nitpick moments too often, for a watched pot never boils, as they say.

But that is not the point. Loving where I am means more than simply looking up once in a while to smell the roses. It means savoring my successes, my growth, and utilizing each day for self-betterment. It means being thankful, even though I am constantly looking toward that ever-longed for horizon. Most of all, I think, it means that I am happier where I am than where I was. I can see where I've come from and I know that right here is where I want to be. Yes, many mistakes pave my path--several instances that I wish had not happened, or had occurred differently--but I can appreciate those mistakes, and I have grown from them.

I am thankful for a loving and merciful God, who has ultimately turned my failures to triumphs. Though lately I've grumbled and griped and complained, I have been immensely blessed. I would not trade places with any of my past or future selves, for right now is a time of change. A transition. So often in life do we forget these transitions and skip directly to the next adventure; little do we realize that those transitioning times are what made the adventures great. They are a period of preparation and growth, and I am thankful for them. For I know that if I use this time wisely, my future will be everything I've ever hoped for. And I will be ready for it.