Real Life Answers

It has been over nine years since our friendship first formed. We only see each other once or twice a year these days—for weddings, or for dedicated visits to one another’s current cities.  But this year, I saw Rachelle for a third time when I flew to Texas to attend the funeral of her eighteen-year-old sister, Madeline Rose. Two days before Thanksgiving, a tragic car accident claimed Madie’s life and seriously injured Taylor, one of Rachelle’s brothers. So it was that on December 1, instead of hanging stockings or trimming a tree, Rachelle started her Christmas season as the final speaker during Madie’s funeral services. At the conclusion of her moving and tender tribute to this beloved sister, Rachelle bore a beautiful witness that because of Jesus Christ’s Atonement, she knows death is not the end of life nor of family relationships, and she affirmed her belief that she will see Madie again.

Later that day, I stood next to Rachelle and another of our friends in a small cemetery on the outskirts of Houston. Together, we watched as Madie’s rose-tinted casket was gradually lowered into a freshly dug grave.  After eleven days of being strong, Rachelle shook her head in grief and murmured, “I just can’t believe that she’s really gone! She was everything to me; I can’t imagine life without her.”

Opening my arms to pull Rachelle into a hug, I reminded her of what she had said earlier that day: “You will see her again. You get to have her forever.”

Like Rachelle, I take comfort in knowing that families are eternal units and that death is not the end of life. Nevertheless, I have thought anxiously about this dear friend and her family every day since I attended Madie’s funeral, and observing the Morris family’s faith-filled grief has changed how I have approached this year’s Christmas season. I have felt a deeper gratitude for my own family and loved ones, and I have found myself thinking more carefully about Jesus Christ, who is the source of all of the blessings, comfort, and peace in my life. With Rachelle in mind, I have listened to Josh Groban’s version of “O Holy Night” over and over again. As the lyrics in this beautiful song have filled my mind and penetrated my heart, they have also given me words to express my reasons for celebrating Christmas.

I celebrate Christmas because I know that Jesus Christ truly is my “dear Savior” who helps my soul to “[feel] its worth.”

I celebrate Christmas because as my Savior, Jesus Christ provides me with a “thrill of hope”—even when I am “in sin and error pining.”

I celebrate Christmas because I know Jesus Christ reaches out to us “in all our trials”: He was indeed “born to be our friend,” and He truly “knows our needs.”

I celebrate Christmas because I am certain that Jesus Christ is no stranger to loss; that He is no stranger to pain; and that He will be no stranger to Rachelle, to her family, or to me. I am grateful to know that because He is the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ can give Rachelle and her family the matchless gift of His healing and His hope.

At Christmas, we commemorate not only Christ’s birth but also everything that came thereafter: His life and ministry; His death and resurrection. We celebrate how He was, as another Christmas song tells us, “born that man no more may die” and is even now “ris’n with healing in His wings.”

This Christmas, I celebrate the beautiful witness of my friend, Rachelle, and add to it my own: truly, “Christ is the Lord.” And because He came to earth on that holiest of holy nights, we need not despair when life presents us with its most challenging moments.

I have learned from Rachelle that even in the midst of tragedy, all can be calm and all can be bright because of Jesus Christ.

That promise is my thrill of hope, and this Christmas, I celebrate it with a full heart.

Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?

The Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.

Alice: I don’t much care where.

The Cat: Then it doesn’t much matter which way you go.

Alice: … so long as I get somewhere.

The Cat: Oh, you’re sure to do that, if only you walk long enough.

The “getting somewhere” of Alice seems similar to “The Top” that I and my classmates seem to have in the back of our minds. But to settle the question of where to go next, it becomes painfully clear that Alice needs to know specifically where she wants to get to, which she does not know. She just has a vague expectation to “get somewhere.” The notion of “The Top” is equally vague. So while it’s fair to say there’s no need to know specifics about our ultimate professional destinations, the question remains: “Where, then, should we look for guidance about where to go next?”

Here are some gospel principles I use to guide my own decisions about where to take the next steps:

1. God has a plan for my life, and he knows me better than I know myself.
2. Through prayer and reflection, God increases my self-awareness, and I come to learn more about my God-given gifts.
3. I should seek work that most leverages these gifts, and allows me to contribute net positively to my family, myself, and the world.

Taken together, these principles help me to put work in the context of my life, rather than the other way around. With the proper perspective of life and its true purpose, which I believe is to become more like God by seeking his guidance and applying it in my daily life, work is put into proper perspective as the means to other, more meaningful ends. Therefore, work is only important insofar as it contributes net positively to achieving the ultimate goal of life. It does this as we exercise and perfect our God-given talents to bless and serve others, as well as develop virtues along the way, such as diligence, faith, generosity, and patience. I will be focusing my efforts on finding work environments that allow for this kind of personal growth, which I suspect will lead me to different opportunities than if I were organizing my search only by the quickest way to “The Top.”