My Life Has Worth

All too often I question the validity of that statement. Oh sure, the lives of God's children have inherent worth. Something I readily agree with on a grand scale. But my own life? Sometimes I feel like there are just too many things I do wrong and too many mistakes I keep making over and over again and as a result the worth of my life is steadily depreciating as time goes on.

Our experience here on earth (and arguably pre and post earth as well) is a series of seemingly random dots thrown on a page. I fall into the trap of looking at the dots individually and judging myself and the life I've lead thus far based on those selective observations. And then sometimes I am lucky enough to have moments where lines form to connect some of those dots and a larger picture begins to appear. Suddenly “bad” dots are no longer evidence of my failure but instead proof that I am living my life and growing everyday. Without my weaknesses and trials and mistakes, my picture would be incomplete and much less beautiful.

I went to therapy today thinking it would be a wasted $75 because I couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to talk about. When my therapist asked me what I wanted to discuss I grasped at the first straw that came to mind and blurted out that I was happy because I went to the gym yesterday. What the?? I am such a dork, but amazingly that inane comment led to a discussion where I found myself experiencing so many “a-ha’s” that I used up 4 pages of notebook paper to record them all after my session. SO MANY snippets of realizations and lessons and analyzations (yeah I know, not a word, but whatever) that I have accumulated over the last 5 years were organized into a beautiful mirror that I could look into and see myself more clearly reflected. The hour was worth every penny and then some.

On an unrelated note (except it falls into the category of things that make me incredibly happy), as I was leaving class last Thursday I was hit by a wave of the most BEAUTIFUL smell. I looked around trying to find the source of the scent but could only see bushes with no flowers. The smell was so amazing that I text messaged my friend who attends the same campus and gave him specific directions about where to go to experience this gift to the nostrils.

I’ve always had a significant appreciation for the beauty found on this earth (my favorite hymn is “My Heavenly Father Loves Me). I’ve seen sunsets that take my breath away and I’ve been up until almost dawn in the canyons of Provo gazing up at the clear night sky and all the stars in it. There are few things better in life than spinning and dancing with arms outstretched in a downpour of rain. And the list goes on. In all my 24+ years, none of those things have given me such intense and lasting pleasure as the smell outside my classroom on Thursday.

Coincidently, I was watching my two girls on Saturday while Mister and Sister Stake President went on a date and when they came home, Mister S.P. handed me a small cluster of beautiful and velvety four-pedaled white flowers with tinges of lavender that he had plucked off of a bush outside the restaurant they ate at. As I brought the cluster closer to my face for examination, THE scent hit me. It turns out these amazing little flowers that smell of sweetness and childhood and roses and citrus are called Daphne Odorus.



I went back to the spot at school where they first came into my life and found clusters of them by the hundreds. I’m sure some of my peers at school today had quite a laugh as they watched me pull flowers out of my purse and drink in their scent over and over again. (Reason number 7 I’m crazy?)

Well this is all very dramatic (I’m nothing if not a drama-queen) but I think that whenever I see and smell these flowers, they will remind me of today and of all the wonderful things I learned about myself and my life and my Heavenly Father. And I am grateful.