Planting Heaven

My assignment has come,
My call is sure,
I will go willingly
And continually endure.

The sweat on my face,
The dirt on my shoes,
I commit to press on
Undeterred by scratch or bruise.

God saw my blue eyes
And looked into my soul,
And there he saw goodness--
Someone who could be whole.

"I'll send you to Africa,"
He said with elation,
"Where you will change lives
And help others to salvation."

You may be an imperfect
Servant to me
But you are planting heaven--
A reaper you'll be.

And when the reaping
Is finished and through
You'll leave your heart in Africa
When you say adieu*. 

*In Joseph Smith's day this word was defined as a farewell; an expression of kind wishes at the parting of friends’ [meaning that I commend you to God]. 

The Imperfection in our Luminous Sphere of Plasma

Yesterday, I may or may not have spent half of my day starting and finishing "The Fault in Our Stars" by John Green. Ok, I confess. I relented to the tear-jerker of a trailer and read the semi-predictable book that inspired it. Obviously I was intrigued enough to finish it in one day (which could debatably be a result of finishing "The Kite Runner" yesterday and needing a little teenage romance to get me out of my beautifully depressed slump.  "The Kite Runner" was good, by the way--not all heavy and scarring. The redemption at the end (spoiler alert) redeemed it).  

I have to admit I laughed out loud quite a few times while reading the book as well as felt a few pangs in my heart but what drew me in wasn't the love story of two dying cancer patients. It was the intelligent and clever words that flowed from Hazel's brain--her effortless ability to mush fabulous diction together into an interesting and genuinely humorous response. And the way Augustus took every idea in his hands, rolled it around, and questioned every angle. He found the metaphor in everything. And it was absolutely normal to have an intense discussion on the topic of scrambled eggs sequestered to breakfast time. 

I would claim they were both intellectually adorable. Though they didn't conform to the normal teenagery stereotype, they were passionate about things enough to pursue them notwithstanding the cancer cells eating away her lungs and his bones. They didn't really need to travel all the way to Amsterdam to meet their favorite author but their passion took them there.

Don't hate me but there might be spoilers coming up so if you don't want the book spoiled stop reading...now.

I know this is a fictional book (as explicitly stated by John Green before the book even begins) but I closed the book not feeling sad that Gus died or angry that Peter Van Houten ended up being an alcoholic bum but wondering where I could find me a Hazel Grace or an Augustus Waters. In an absolutely platonic way I was in love with their brains and I closed the book envying their intellectually adorableness down to the last page. 

As ridiculous as it sounds being a full-time college student and preparing for a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I feel like I am missing something really essential. I'm not pursuing anything I'm passionate about right NOW and it's unhealthy for my generally passionate heart. I know we don't all have the pleasure of pursuit every moment of our lives--sometimes relenting to the monotony is what we have to do to keep ourselves alive and stuff--but dreaming a dream and realizing it passionately makes life a little less cancer-ridden and a little more "adventure to Amsterdam"-ish. 

I don't know whether I'll take up water colors or start taking writing more seriously or get in the car and pursue the horizon but whatever it is I want to be a little more like Hazel Grace and amidst the TV marathons I want to really, really love something to the point that it's mine.

Live passionately, my dear friends.