God is Not Like Chocolate Ice Cream

The writer slice of me would like each of these blog posts to be cohesive... but that's just not gonna work sometimes. This scattered post will include thoughts about: emotion-packed moments, inclusive statements, conversation questions, and why God is not like chocolate ice cream. 

1. Emotion Packed Moments. 

We attended Hyrum's Pre-K graduation on Friday. Poor guy feels it deeply when he can tell he's not the self he used to be, so he stayed on Dad's lap and watched. It hurt seeing other smiling, singing kids and feeling like Hyrum should have been up there bouncing with them. Michael cried in the hallway, feeling the weight of a Pre-K ceremony that has to represent every other graduation we should have had with him. 

We also attended a baptism! We want our kids to have as many covenant moments as they can, and this one was great because both families involved are our dear friends. I wasn't anticipating so many feelings... but I definitely cried through most of it. 

2. Inclusive Statements. 

At that baptism, Caleb and Emily were practicing reverence and surviving on the one miraculous box of cereal that we had in the car. (Caleb did pack himself a toy bag! But we forgot it. So sad lol) It was almost time to go home, and the cereal was gone. My friend, and a nursery leader at church, asked if we wanted goldfish from the kid closet. I declined, but she saw that I needed help. She brought goldfish over to us, then took a chair next to Caleb and said quietly "I'll sit with you." She held Caleb and colored with him, creating a quiet moment for me to cry my feelings. Emotionally and physically, she sat with me.

At church today, I was flying solo with Caleb and Emily. I stumbled into Sunday School with Emily on one arm and two bags hanging off the other, apologizing to the woman I sat by. "We all have baggage.", she said. I felt a little lighter. 

I know it's hard to know what to say to someone in deep grief. I don't have any universal recommendations, but in my case, I'm most comforted when someone steps gently into my somber space and just brings their "thing" with them. They acknowledge me. They offer an honest slice of them: goldfish at a baptism, slurpees from a 7-11 aficionado, digital art and poetry from the creative soul, hugs from the hugger, driftwood from a beach-lover, gentle words from a gentle soul. Their words or actions may not change my circumstances, but their honest presence makes me feel like I'm not carrying this alone. 

3. Conversation Questions. 

If we have a few minutes to talk, you might try asking me, "What were some of the laughs today?" "Tell me about a recent cry." "Who had a good day today?" "Is anyone having a hard day today?" 

4. Chocolate Ice Cream. 

I used to imagine the character of God as one homogenous, celestial flavor of ice cream. He's somehow ALL the things ALL at the same time - merciful and just, alpha and omega, etc. Very hard to visualize, but there it was! However, I'm starting to reconsider that view of God. What if, instead of one celestial chocolate ice cream, God is actually a full buffet? 

I used to look at some parts of my life, my feelings, my character, and assume they wouldn't fit on the heavenly menu. "Heaven can't include THAT..." But the more I learn about heaven and God, (like how He weeps), the more I see my experience mirrored there. Sadness. Joy. Conversations. Relationships. Creativity. Anger. Humor. Love. What if there is no inexplicable cosmic mush? What if God has the capacity to be ALL those things, but not necessarily all at once? What if part of omniscience is knowing WHEN and HOW to be - and for whom?  

Because at the buffet, the experience I have is largely determined by MY choices. Likewise, in my short journey with God, I have had vastly different experiences with Him based on my choices - what I'm doing and what I choose to believe about Him. My years of desperate To-Do lists and perfectionism, I tasted "justice". That IS part of who He is. More recent years, I've ventured into different areas of the buffet, tasting mercy, wisdom, peace. His full character buffet was always there - I just experienced it differently based on the appetites I was following. I'm still pulsing with feelings, but with hope that there's a way to navigate them that feels glorious and heavenly and good. If He can be Alpha AND Omega, maybe I can hurt and have hope, grieve and find good.

This is obviously just one way of imagining things. However, God does talk a lot about seasons/phases (Genesis 1:14, Moses 2:14, Genesis 8:22, Acts 1:7, Ecc 3:4, D&C 88:42). The Earth itself, with all its diversity and seasons, is ALREADY LIVING celestial law (D&C 88:25). He seems to put a lot of importance on allowing every feeling/experience their own space and time - dedicating separate days during the creation of the Earth, not trying to rush the harvest or calm every storm. Didn't Jesus stop to weep with Mary and Martha, even when He knew resurrection was only a breath away? 

I really don't know how God organizes His character, feelings, or time. I just know that I feel a lot closer to Him when I believe that my varying moments and feelings are alright with Him. That He can ride the waves with me. That it doesn't scare Him away or disappoint Him if I'm not colored in one celestial blue yet. After all, that one heavenly shade might not even exist! My days are colored equally in neons, blacks, and all the shades in between, but with a lot of the Mediator's influence, it somehow feels more heavenly than the simpler hues I used to wear.