Skip to main content

July 22, 2014

JULY 22, 2014
**EXPECTATION**
Best friend and I will be up all night, excited, maybe crying.
We will drive to the airport together.
We will sleep on the plane. Maybe, if we were up the night before.
Both our families will be there, together, with their balloons and "WELCOME HOME" signs.
We will sign. Throw them off.
When we can't stand it anymore, we will run to them.
I will run to them. Hug them all.
Probably Mom first. Mothers get first call.
Then, the boys.
Then, Dad.
Say goodbye to best friend. Drive home. Tell them everything.
 
*******************************
 
JULY 22, 2014
**REALITY**
Wake up.
Clean.
Apply for classes.
Appointment.
Work.
No hugs.
No brothers. No Mom. No Dad.
Drive around alone.
 
......


Sometimes, you just want to escape.

No, I'm not talking about going on a trip, or going to another state.

I'm talking about that confinement that you feel by just being you.
The realization that you are you and you won't ever be anyone else but you, and you have to live with being you.
Your struggles. Your weaknesses. Even your happiness and triumph.
It's all exhausting sometimes.
Escape would mean just having a brief moment of freedom of being you. Almost like as if your spirit could just leave your body for a few moments.

Not like death.

More like a jump. A jump through space. Matter. Time. A jump through your story.
What will I become? I need to know the end of my story...

Or perhaps, more like a dream. An escape from reality.
I love dreaming. It gives me a chance to be away for a little while.

It's interesting how many forms that confinement can be.

..................................................................................................................

This is a trial of faith.

I won't say the trial of faith. There may be more.

And from this, many things have happened.
Tears.
Trials.
Miracles.
Smiles.
Stumbles.
Triumph.
Confusion.
Inspiration.

The following does not happen in the above order.

..................................................................................................................

"You're an inspiration!"

You'd think I'd be used to hearing it. But I'm still not.
I appreciate it very much.
Although, I am still trying to see it.

Very few people see what happens behind the closed door and pulled curtains. All the suppressed feelings that build up. Even all the "what ifs" and "whys". They still happen.
I think, to some degree, they always will.
Confinement.

How is that, pray tell, an inspiration??

....................................................................................................................

I'm not the inspiration. As much as you all think.
It's not me.
Can't you see that? I'm just a normal girl, going through a crazy, unexpected ordeal.

The inspiration is the Atonement. The inspiration is that the crazy, unexpected ordeal can be fixed in due time.
No, they won't come back. Not anytime soon, anyways.
But we are a forever family.
THAT, my friends, is the inspiration.

Or, perhaps even, the inspiration is that we won't be completely and utterly alone. Ever. Although, maybe at times, we may feel that way.
You won't know how I feel, and I won't know how you feel. Even if we switched our circumstances, it would never be the same, because you are you, and I am me, and you and I handle things even slightly differently.
But we are never alone. Because that price has *touch finished* been paid.

Perhaps, the inspiration comes from that in a very small town in this gigantic earth, where things are becoming crazier by the minute, there is a girl who still believes that there is a God. One that can do miracles.
And there are so many more of the like.

Shouldn't that be SAYIING something?

My family were who they were.... who they ARE... because of the Atonement of Christ. My brother is back on his mission, sharing his experiences, regardless of how hard it may have been to leave, because of the Atonement of Christ. I am who I am because of the Atonement of Christ.

And when I remember that... I don't feel so confined anymore.
Because I know that Christ died for us, so that we wouldn't be.

.........................................................................................................

Confinement takes on many forms.

But so does freedom.

The freedom of being happy. Being with family. The freedom of togetherness.

...........................................................................................................

I wonder...

HEAVEN
**EXPECTATION**
Maybe, it's like a homecoming.
Everyone is excited.
Maybe they have signs that says, "WELCOME HOME!"
I hope they are there. I'll run up to them and hug them.
Probably Mom. Mothers get the first call.
Then, the boys.
Then, Dad.
 
 
That would be nice... 




Comments

  1. KatJuly 22, 2014 at 4:07 PM

    That was well said!

    ReplyDelete
  2. HudsonJuly 22, 2014 at 5:38 PM

    Well put Sister Parrish. Thank you for sharing your feelings and experiences.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Karl and Debbie King FamilyJuly 23, 2014 at 7:11 AM

    Thank you for more understanding. Mothers do get first call and your dad is always so patient and wise to understand this, the boys, and the love they all share together. They will have smiling, glowing faces and big hugs.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Nathan Serving in Salvador BrazilJuly 24, 2014 at 1:35 PM

    I love you Jensen Parrish, you are an amazing person. :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A New Normal

Life is unfigureoutable. One minute, it's going one way. And then the next, your life is forever changed. My name is Jensen Parrish. And my life has been changed. I was a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, serving in the Washington, Vancouver Mission, speaking American Sign Language. I had been out for a year. My brother, Ian Parrish, was also a missionary for the church, serving in the South Dakota, Rapid City Mission. Our missions meant EVERYTHING to us. The growth that we developed there has truly changed our lives. The principles that we taught became firmly rooted in us. Little did we know, that our testimonies of those very principles would be put to the test, in the most unexpected way. On February 23, 2014, just three days after my year mark of being a missionary, I received the news from my mission president and his dear wife, that my mother, my father, and 2 younger brothers had peacefully passed on from this life into the next. The ca
20 comments
Read more

Little bit of Chaos

My home is a disaster. (Mom would not be happy with me right now...) Letters, cards and packages from a variety of caring people, wanting to do anything that they can to help. A basketball signed by the BYU Provo basketball team. Things that have been gathered, sitting in the living room, waiting for voyage to D.I. Things that I want to save. Chocolates. Clothes. Chaos. A little bit how I feel about life. These past two weeks have been the slowest and yet the fastest that I've ever experienced in my life. There are 5 steps in the grief: Denial Anger Bargaining Depression Acceptance Simple. Yet complicated. Or, my favorite word... Unfigureoutable. Why? Because we all grieve differently. Some people take control of the situation. Some people handle things well. If you're like me, you go on "shut-down, don't talk to me" mode. Which may not be the best way to handle a funeral. Because I wanted nothing more than to just run away from the world and hide.
17 comments
Read more

The Newest of "Normals"

I remember that night as if it were yesterday. I remember that the living room light in the apartment was off, but the kitchen light was on. I remember I was wearing an old EFY T-shirt with pink cotton pajama bottoms. I remember that whole day was a good one, a great one even- we had had dinner with an amazing family and had a great spiritual lesson. We were on a spiritual high from the day, excited and ready for our break the next day, excited to be able to check our emails, excited to talk to our families. I remember kneeling next to my bed, saying my night prayers. I remember saying, “Please bless Mom, Dad, Keegan and Liam at home. I’m grateful to be able to talk to them tomorrow.” I remember the knock at the door right at the end of my prayer. Confusion seemed to buzz throughout the apartment as the six of us girls poked our heads out of rooms, wondering, “Who is knocking at 10:30 at night?” I remember seeing my mission president and his wife, their faces sad, scared,
11 comments
Read more