I am a Currant Bush

From D. Todd Christofferson's April 2011 General Conference Talk:

'God uses another form of chastening or correction to guide us to a future we do not or cannot now envision but which He knows is the better way for us. President Hugh B. Brown, formerly a member of the Twelve and a counselor in the First Presidency, provided a personal experience. He told of purchasing a rundown farm in Canada many years ago. As he went about cleaning up and repairing his property, he came across a currant bush that had grown over six feet (1.8 m) high and was yielding no berries, so he pruned it back drastically, leaving only small stumps. Then he saw a drop like a tear on the top of each of these little stumps, as if the currant bush were crying, and thought he heard it say:

“How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. … And now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me. … How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.”

President Brown replied, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and someday, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down.’”

Years later, President Brown was a field officer in the Canadian Army serving in England. When a superior officer became a battle casualty, President Brown was in line to be promoted to general, and he was summoned to London. But even though he was fully qualified for the promotion, it was denied him because he was a Mormon. The commanding general said in essence, “You deserve the appointment, but I cannot give it to you.” What President Brown had spent 10 years hoping, praying, and preparing for slipped through his fingers in that moment because of blatant discrimination. Continuing his story, President Brown remembered:

“I got on the train and started back … with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. … When I got to my tent, … I threw my cap on the cot. I clenched my fists, and I shook them at heaven. I said, ‘How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?’ I was as bitter as gall.

“And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, ‘I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.’ The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness. …

“… And now, almost 50 years later, I look up to [God] and say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.’”

God knew what Hugh B. Brown was to become and what was needed for that to happen, and He redirected his course to prepare him for the holy apostleship.'



I failed the MCAT.

5 years ago I was accepted to school at NYU. I was elated, but when it got down to the wire I wasn't able to afford it, even after a hefty scholarship. While it was one of the hardest trials I have endured I look back and think "Thank you, Mr. Gardener," knowing that if that hadn't have happened I would never have ended up at BYU, knowing and loving the people around me. More importantly, I would not be the woman that I am today.

And if this hinders me from getting into medical school I know that one day the response will be "Thank you, Mr. Gardener".

Milk

Last night Marie and I went grocery shopping. We were in the milk area when we noticed the chocolate milk. Marie and I both LOVE chocolate milk. We looked at each other and at the 2 gallons of milk already in our cart.

"Well... there's no one else in the apartment right now." I reasoned.
"What if they move in?" Pondered Marie.
"It's already 9pm so they're not moving in tonight. And we'll just drink it fast so if they move in tomorrow it'll be gone by the time they actually go out to buy stuff to stock the fridge with." I replied.

We bought an entire gallon of delicious chocolate milk. We drank it as we watched Ally McBeal. Around 10pm we heard footsteps on the staircase. 3 of our roommates moved in last night.

We really need to pound that milk down tonight.

Goofy

Remember these days? We were a strange bunch.

Screenshot

Please see the red outlined box. It's an attachment for the last EFY group room assignments of the summer from that girl. Excited? I think yes.

Things I've Learned this Summer

Kyle pointed out that I've learned three things this summer at work that I can put on a resume:

1. How to shoot a rubberband.
2. How to park a car.
3. Basic SQL programming language.

I don't even know what that third one means.

Graduation

Today I skipped out on the first few hours of work to go with Marie and Megan to B. Fish’s graduation convocation. We saw him step up to the stage at the front of the room to sit in preparation for giving his speech. We knew it was him, even though we were farther away and he had gotten a snazzy new hair cut. When he got up he spoke on love and education and how they relate to each other. As B. Fish said when we learn more about a subject we can’t help but love it, and when a teacher loves a subject it makes the students more interested in learning about it. Is this not true? I loved anatomy. And I mean loved. I didn’t always understand it and I still couldn’t tell you where a muscle’s origins and insertions are located. But Tomco was such a great teacher and she taught with so much enthusiasm and her face would light up with each new body system. And how much did I hate cell bio? Yes, that professor was just as enthusiastic but it made no sense whatsoever to me. I hated it. I learned nothing. My “D” proves that.

But what I thought about most was the feeling that the graduates must be having and how it compared to my own. I imagine college graduation as this glamorous production. It is long and formal, just as I thought it would be. But the room was pretty empty and as I sat in an audience with lots of open chairs surrounding me I felt pretty removed. But for the graduates, this was it. I remember how high school graduation felt. Like an accomplishment. And even though I sat by these people that I didn’t know or care about we had all made it through high school which, ironically, is a thing to be celebrated in Oxnard, CA. But it was exciting and hopeful and I’m sure that the graduates all felt that mixed with something else as well.

I couldn’t help but think that in just 8 months that will be me. And not only that, but for Megan and Marie who were with me. I imagined what it would be like to wake up one day eight months from now in a room mostly packed up, final finals behind me, and to stare at the graduation cap and gown hanging on the closet in front of me. How lonely and scared I will be. At least, that’s how I feel about it now. What happens then? Hopefully medical school. But where? And will I know anyone else? Will I have friends? Will this be the last time that I see Megan and Marie, as we finish what we’ve been working on for so long?

But in the end, graduation is just the beginning, which is why we call it “commencement”. And even though now I envision myself full of terror and confusion on that day, I hope that I’ll be just as hopeful as the day I sat at my high school graduation, knowing that in just a few months I would be somewhere new, learning and growing like I always have.