Painting With [Light]

Hey Guys... Sorry, I definitely owe you a few pictures of the week. Here are some things I have been working on. A post is on its way! 

[Light] to Seek

Sunsets and Sinking [Light]

When my mind swirls with things I can't grasp, that is where I go. I park in the temple parking lot in my sacred Rexburg and Heavenly Father and I talk for a while. Since recently moving home, I am not in a position to retreat there as much as I am used to. But when I can make it, I still find beautiful clarity. 

I recently spent some time there after work, just as the sun was setting over the country skyline that had come to be filled with so many tender memories of mine in the recent months. As I noticed the beauty of what was taking place, I grabbed my trusty sidekick (also known as my camera) out of my back seat, and started my quest toward the perfect angle to capture this majesty. As I became wrapped up in getting the perfect shot, Heavenly Father gently reminded that all the pixels in the entire world will ever do this view justice. Because the beauty of the sunset is not found in the seeing alone. In fact, it is discovered in the feeling of it. The warmth on your skin, and becoming aware of how breathtakingly vast the world is around you, all at the same time as you realize how very small you are in this beautiful scheme. 

Those people who are closest to me have heard me say that I have always had a draw to sunsets. Maybe its because they are so simple, but their dynamic beauty is so complex. Maybe its because the same sunset never happens twice. Or maybe, just maybe, I hold a belief in my heart that Grandpa Harry helps paint them. 

The idea of beauty coming when you allow yourself to feel something has weighed heavily on my mind as of late. My heart wonders to many places, but lately I keep coming back to the idea of how fragile life is, and how feeling it is how we allow it to change us. Recent events have contributed to a seemingly drastic thinning of the veil for me, and I guess its safe to say my feeler has been put on high alert. 

I am reading a book (Not kidding..I'm reading a book.) entitled "Before My Heart Stops" by one of my longtime heroes, Paul Cardall. He was born with a sever heart defect and spends most of his life with uncertainty littering his future. The veil is so thin for him, and it seems to me that he was blessed with such a power to feel divine comfort. A new focus of mine is to rely on true light the way Paul does, and be able to draw strength from the source of light that doesn't sink into the west as the day draws to a close, but is constant, steady, and omniscient at all times, day or night. To feel of the peace that comes from that light with all my heart, and not hold back any part of my heart from feeling that love.

I found an article that appeared in the ensign some years ago. There are some really powerful quotes that portray some things I have been feeling lately. A young widowed mother recounts what sunsets came to mean to her. 

She says, "Instead of struggling to fight off sadness and loneliness in the house each morning, I decided to step outside to greet Heavenly Father in the sunrise, partaking of the beauty only He, the Source of all light, could offer. The mellow hues of refracted sunlight witnessed of His love, and deep swelling gratitude began to fill my aching soul, sweeping away the darkness and securing a wholesome perspective on the day." 

Later, she goes on to say, "Through the years we witnessed together that He begins and ends each day in beauty, silently setting forth breathtaking loveliness uniquely crafted for that day and beckoning us to be happy in Him." 

I think the reason this article rang so true to me, was that in my quest to feel, I have found that what I haven't fully been feeling is the complete love of God. The more you let yourself feel Gods love, the more it surrounds the ache in your heart and takes care of it. Because when the sun sets on this mortal life, we will get to meet our Maker. And when I get there, I want to feel nothing but His love. 

President Kim B. Clark gave a beautiful devotional a couple weeks back, PLEASE go listen to it.  I listened to it again this morning, and the spirit that came from it provided much solace as it taught of the truth of the atonement. President Clark talked about the scripture found in Mosiah 4:9, where we are counseled to "Believe in God" and know that He created all things. I learned many powerful things from listening to this address again, but in particular it stood out to me how grateful I am that God made sunsets, and that He made me. And, most importantly, that His Son, Jesus Christ, made an atonement that can help me through sin and suffering, hang ups and hardships. That is the truth! Hold on thy way (D&C 122:9) and He will not depart from you! 

When was the last time you felt a sunset? 

[Light] Bulb Moment

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. (Shocker.)

I studied the perception cycle of the human mind this semester, and the exact process of how we recognize the world around us. I spent 13 weeks studying this process in depth- The physics, the biology, the psychology. Though we only skimmed the surface of what there is to learn, I enjoyed every minute of it. But just recently it clicked for me, just how fast this whole process happens. The effects of said realization are immeasurable, but can be eternally vast to say the least.

It only takes you a split second to realize something is falling off a table, and in that same split second, you launch into action to prevent the impending doom. Or how many times have you seen someone who looks like they are competing for the Olympic speed-walking qualifier stop their enthusiasticly swinging hips, dead in their motivated tracks, do that thing with their face that looks like they are sniffing the air for the scent of their competitors, then pat their pockets, and rush back toward their imaginary starting line. Obviously our future medalist forgot something worth its weight in gold. (ß See what I did there?) And the firing of the neurons that led to that realization? It happened in such a small molecule of that stuff we call time.

Recognition... what an interesting idea. I think it’s more than axons and dendrites and sinusoid waves, or even remembering the face of someone dear. In fact… I know so.  As Latter Day Saints, I guess you could say we are taught how to fine tune our “recognizer” as we practice receiving personal witnesses from the Holy Ghost to trade in our beliefs for knowledge. Or as we learn to recognize the quiet need that isn't so obvious in those people who walk among us every day. To me, this type is a gradual recognition. One we can become better at with practice. It seems to be a gradient of discipleship which takes place over the course of our defining mortal progression.

This mortal progression of ours is an interesting one. And lately, I have learned that it’s full of one recognition after another, whether they are slow, or we choose to swallow our pride and be more truly attentive as to not prolong the pain. These turning points, these defining moments as I like to think of them, are the climax of the very best story. The prerequisite to the long awaited resolution, which I’m sure keeps the heavenly audience of angels on the edge or their seats from time to non-existent-heavenly time.

So… why the prologue? What does it matter? Wait for it.. you will recognize the moral of this story soon enough. You can’t have the climax without the rising action, you hasty readers. Hang on. We are almost there.

I was in an ugly car accident the day before Christmas Eve. I fell victim to the blackest of ice and as a result, totaled my car, caused a big scene, and we were left to deal with the repercussions. I was so greatly blessed to walk away without a scratch and I owe my Heavenly Father and those angels a big one for coming off the edge of their seats to protect me on that bitter cold night. My mortal progression was seconds from no longer progressing. 

The next day, and for many days after, when I returned to the scene of the accident, my life and the events of that tough night would flash over and over in my head, along with every other possible scenario that could have played out that night. These thoughts filled my dreams and every waking moment that I would allow them to. “I shouldn't be alive. There’s no reason in the world I should still be breathing. There were a thousand different reasons why I shouldn’t have been ok after that accident.” My thoughts swirled around that central theme to the point of exhaustion.

But then the realization came: the flash of inspiration, and the light bulb moment. My thinking took a hard right toward a better perspective in a moment which I would like to think of as defining. 

“BUT. I. AM.” I finally thought. 

I am! I’m ALIVE! My heart is still pumping blood and caring about people. My mind is still remembering facts and narrating my awkward life, and being its semi-witty, ridiculous self. I, Jamie Brooke Murray, am still alive! (Doesn’t that have a nice ring to it??) Wrap it up and call it a present, this is here and now, folks. And it’s time to do something about it.

With no warning of my accident except that of the Spirit, my best friend Manda got me this beautiful book for Christmas. It’s called, “Before My Heart Stops” by my favorite pianist Paul Cardall, himself. (A definite must read. Can I say that before I finish it? Is that socially kosher?) And I read a line in it today that made me really stop and thing. And you know what happens when we do that? We have recognitions. We recognize the things Heavenly Father has been trying to get through our preoccupied heads. 

Paul’s doctor remarked about him (and I personalized it a little, old habit I guess), “(S)he had unfinished business. (S)he was not beholden to any physical thing in this world. Rather (s)he embraced it as part of God’s glory, realizing the beauty that surrounded her every day.”

As I realized the weight of those words, I saw how beautifully and painfully they fit my current situation. I was attempting to make sense of what these events mean for me and how they should be effecting my actions. When these words sunk in, it was like the light bulb I had been working so hard to create with the now broken pieces finally met electricity, and upon ignition the divide that was formed in my soul and in my understanding was illuminated. The long awaited resolution.

Yes, it would have been easy for God to call me home. It would have been a perfectly acceptable exit. But it wasn’t! I am still on stage! There’s no second date on my tomb stone yet, so I had better be putting some meaning into that dash. If my birth certificate came with an expiration date, it would not have been that day. Or today for that matter!

So…

Here’s to doing scary things.

Here’s to putting first things first.

Here’s to never holding back a kind word.

Here’s to having water fights with the kids when 

you’re bathing them and letting their 

innocent laughter soak your heart.

Here’s to breaking down your own barriers and 

not waiting for someone else to do it for you.

Here’s to putting that still-beating heart of yours 

into everything you do.

Here’s to giving every last bit of yourself even when it’s hard.

Here’s to recognizing the tender mercies and the real Glory.

Here’s to never giving up on your quest toward light.

Here’s to chasing the Son and the brightest of futures.

Here, my friends, is to still living. 

-Jamie                                                                                  

(My new theme song. Listen. Now.)