Bri Colorful

Archive for March 2010

“The needy traveler, secure and gay,
Walks the wild heath, and sings his toil away.
Does envy seize thee? crush th’upbraiding joy,
Increase his riches and his peace destroy.”
– from
The Vanity of Human Wishes, Samuel Johnson

When people tell you, “Be careful what you wish for,” what they’re really saying is that envy is just wishing for someone else’s trials instead of your own. Often we only see the good in other’s lives and the difficult in our own.  If you were to take a walk in their shoes though, you would realize the unique trials associated with their blessings and you might wish to be right back where you started: in your own comfortably worn-out tennis shoes, instead of those sparkling, yet difficult-to-manage high-heels.

I read an article recently that suggested that we befriend our trials and make them our own.  The article suggested that we not just “hang in there.” That’s enduring, but it’s not enduring well and enduring well brings joy. Sometimes life is less like a roller coaster with highs and lows and more like white water rafting; the current remains swift and though some areas are a little less bumpy, the whole ride is going to be rough so hang on and learn to enjoy.

These thoughts intrigued me. How could I own my trials? What could I do to better endure them? So I pose the question to you. What strategies have you used to “endure well” the trials that are yours?

The following is a personal response to a post on my mother-in-law’s s incredible blog,

Time is not an unruly Two-year old too impatient to sit still, but a stoic Taskmaster placing fetters on my wrists and ankles and then prodding me on at a horrific pace and ironicly not fast enough. What I wouldn’t give to shake the shackles and freely fly to the place where I will long for him to still! How painfully the leaky faucet drips on my head until I cannot be restrained there anymore and shout, “Enough!”

I long to step into the sun so badly, but perhaps the waterfall before me distorts the picturesque pasture beyond and only tricks me into thinking it will be greener.  I want to see the whole puzzle but am only given pieces with jagged edges that just hint at the picture being created. I feel each future moment can only be better than the present. I am so eager to race forward to a promised land while presently being driven forth before the wind.

Does naivety beget my impatient enthusiasm as a child yearns for growth,  incognizant of the brevity of springtime?  Will wisdom’s years cause me to recollect days warmer than they were? Will I ever learn to slow Time’s marching pace and embrace the abundance surrounding me? Is the wind today an overlooked blessing carrying seeds to produce future blooms? Is this day as mild as any other or are my hopes met in the shadows of what is to come?

Please share with me your thoughts about Time. Time is a central and important part our lives. It drives everything we do.  Is time really a creation of man? Part of what I wanted to get across in this post is the inconsistency of Time – sometimes an hour flies by, sometimes it drags on. How do you feel about Time? Have your feelings changed over time? (he he)

Bri Colorful

Posted on: March 8, 2010

It is my new mantra you could say, in the same vein as the “Bri-attitudes.” You know them: bri meek, bri merciful, bri pure. . . from the New Testament in Matthew 5. President Hinckley even added a few of his own to the mix in his 2001 message, “A Prophet’s Counsel and Prayer for Youth” – bri grateful, bri smart, bri clean, bri true, bri humble, and bri prayerful.  I was a youth at the time that talk was given, and as you can see, I have tried to make these attributes my own though with varied successes.

To me, “bri-ing colorful” means filling my crayon box with as many colors as possible, coloring outside the lines a little and not worrying about the grade. It means appreciating God’s artwork around me, which is often all-too-visible in my loved ones, in my associates, and in all His creations; artistry that I somehow overlook as time blurs past me. I think it is long past time that I share the scribbles of my journey of bri-coming Apprentice-Artisan to that Master- Artist of our souls.

More than English (which is my declared major at Brigham Young University), I am learning that, just as we have to edit and revise each draft of an essay carefully before it clearly conveys our message, so our lives require revision, rearrangement, and refocusing in order to reach our full potential and become what God would have us bri-come. I want to share with you these cautiously crafted drafts in hopes that, as we share the colors and the conceits of our lives, each individual piece will benefit the other until they all interweave into a larger work of art. So follow me as I brush the first tentative strokes of what God intends to be a Masterpiece!

Spanish Moss

Posted on: March 6, 2010

I wrote this poem while reflecting on the experience of attending my husband’s grandfather’s funeral in Florida. My husband has been close to him all his life and he was the one who sealed us together.

Following the procession to the site
The lawn, a crowd of regal figures tall
From which hangs beard or flowing apparel
All seems dim and gray, even the light.

A gentle current sails ‘long lacy drape
To grace the pale, wrinkled cheek in death.
Before his court, the king lies without breath;
a void; an empty shell leaves love agape.

Why at this sad occasion are there blooms
of brightest hue, of lighted face?
It does not seem to me to match the pace.
Side each other: death, life, happy gloom.

The good king only sleeps, God knows.
For us the King of Kings once rose.

Photo of Bri

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