Just the Beginning

Week two.

The week of firsts.

Eight girls. Six boys.

Fourteen total.

The smallest company I’ve ever had and will probably ever have.

This week consisted of duck duck goose, playing “snatch it” more than I’ve ever played it before, a tender testimony meeting, Spikeball, some of the most sacred and special hugs, Mormon rizz, inside jokes, a super fun dance, two “religious rants” (stay tuned for the next blog post), tears, laughter, and stories.

(Would I really be me if I didn’t tell stories?!)

There is a story that I loved to tell each week. (This includes last year too.) I told it in the morning, always relating it to one of the gospel study lessons before I released the youth to study personally.

This particular week, as I was telling the story, I realized I added way more background than I ever had, and I added details that I don’t normally share. I didn’t really think much of it. I finished the story, made sure to hit the main point/climax, and then let the kids spread out.

As we were walking up to the morning devotional afterwards, one of my young women, Emma, came up to talk to me.

She said she loved the part of the story that I never tell. I was kind of surprised and taken aback. Her favorite part of the story was the details I’ve never added before. The background I never give.

She doesn’t know (unless she’s reading this right now) that I never tell that part of the story. That I leave those details out because it’s not super important to my main point.

But for some reason, that morning I had told the story in a different way than I always did.

And the rest of the summer, any time I told that story, I never added those details again. They didn’t seem relevant.

For Emma, the details that I never share are what stood out to her, what mattered to her, what related to her, what taught her.

I wish I had told her before today about that. Because then I think she would have realized in that moment that Heavenly Father loves her and is aware of her. He directed me to tell the part of the story I never tell … for her.

I think that’s pretty special.

She’s worth it to Him.

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For this specific week, there are three podcast episodes that I recorded and posted. I was shocked when I recorded not one, not two, but three of them!

The first two were around 28 minutes and the last one was 34. Obviously I had a lot to say.

So, keeping that in mind, it feels silly to outline and go over the entire week again. I’m also going to write another post specifically focusing on a certain story from that week.

Because I don’t have a certain direction to travel in at this time, I want to recount a scripture story that one of the health coordinators shared with us during our afternoon meeting.

He had been a counselor the year before, so he related to the struggles personally. One of those hardships being the weight of trying to bring the youth unto Christ.

This story is from Alma 18-19 in The Book of Mormon.

In Alma 18, Ammon and King Lamoni are having a discussion about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, about God, about the plan of Salvation, and about the coming of Christ.

After Ammon finishes teaching King Lamoni, “the king believed all his words” (verse 40). He then cried unto the Lord for mercy until “he fell unto the earth, as if he were dead” (verse 42).

His body is then carried to his wife, the queen, and she and their family mourn him since they believe he is dead.

In Alma 19, the queen calls Ammon to come and speak with her. She tells Ammon that King Lamoni “laid upon his bed for the space of two days and two nights; and some say that he is not dead, but others say that he is dead and that he stinketh” (verse 5). After she shares this with Ammon, she asks for his help.

Ammon lets her know that the king is okay and will arise the next day.

When he does, he bears witness of Jesus Christ and then is overcome once more with the spirit: “his heart was swollen within him, and he sunk again with joy; and the queen also sunk down, being overpowered by the Spirit” (verse 13).

Ammon kneels down in prayer and “began to pour out his soul in prayer and thanksgiving to God for what he had done for his brethren; and he was also overpowered with joy; and thus they all three had sunk to the earth” (verse 14).

Soon, King Lamoni, the queen, Ammon, and several servants have “fallen to the earth” (verse 16).

This leaves one Lamanite woman: “Abish, having been converted unto the Lord for many years” sees these people laying on the ground and knows “it was the power of God; and supposing that this opportunity, by making known unto the people what had happened among them, that by beholding this scene it would cause them to believe in the power of God, therefore she ran forth from house to house, making it known unto the people” (verse 17).

To put simply (that verse is kind of a mouthful), Abish knows that this event is a miracle and a manifestation of God’s power. She is excited and thinks this is a perfect opportunity to show others the power of God, so that they can believe too.

She gathers a multitude of people, and I’m sure her excitement was just about bursting over. It’s exciting to share the Gospel and to rejoice together!

Soon, however, out of fear and astonishment, the people begin murmuring and fighting, and there is contention in the air.

When Abish sees “the contention which was among the multitude, she was exceedingly sorrowful, even unto tears” (verse 28).

That’s something that they don’t tell you about being an FSY counselor. No one really tells you that you may work as hard as you possibly can, and it still may not feel like enough. The youth still might turn away. They still might refuse to “come and see.”

What’s even worse than that, for me at least, is when they want to feel it and can’t. It is one of the most painful things for me, when I pray and pray and hope and hope that they can feel the spirit, and they are unable to. Sometimes, some of my youth never get to feel it while at FSY. Gratefully and fortunately, most times they do.

I still pray nearly everyday for the youth that never got to experience feeling the spirit while we were together. I will never give up on them! I know the Savior won’t either!

Okay back to Abish.

She is disheartened and is close to tears, but rather than giving up, she goes over and takes the queen by the hand, hoping that her faith is enough to raise the queen from the ground.

It sums up what it can feel like to be a counselor sometimes.

You’re disheartened. You’re close to tears. You are emotionally tired, but you try to have hope and faith anyway.

It’s especially tiring and disheartening when your kids think you’re not genuine. When they think it’s all a job to you. When they don’t want to reciprocate your efforts to make connections with them.

But like Abish, I tried to move forward with faith, taking the youth by the hand and hoping that my efforts were enough. Hoping they would be able to see how much I actually do love them.

For Abish, her faith is enough. Because when she touches the queen’s hand, the queen arises, and soon after that, everyone has woken up.

This story reminds me of living a hope-based life.

Because no matter how contentious and overwhelming the situation was, she didn’t let her fear overtake her. She acted in faith instead.

And look what miracles occurred because of it!

That happened to me too. When I pushed through even when I was stressed, even when I felt disheartened, even when I felt unsure and overwhelmed, I got to watch miracles take place.

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While at the dance on Friday, I asked all my kids for possible title ideas for the week. We discussed a few ideas, but everyone immediately agreed that when Karter suggested, “Just the Beginning” it was the right one. It wasn’t even up for discussion at that point. It was just right. It felt right.

To connect this title to more than just that week, this title speaks to me for my life.

I did FSY last year, but this year felt like something new. I felt different than I ever have before.

In Ephraim, I was more in tune with the spirit than I have ever been in my entire life. Ever.

And luckily, I don’t feel disheartened by the fact that FSY is over (this summer at least). That I can no longer be in tune like that.

Instead, it feels like this is just the beginning.

It feels like I have my life ahead of me.

To watch miracles take place.

To have faith.

To spread hope.

To show love.

To make connections and friendships.

To laugh.

To cry.

To repent.

To change.

To grow.

To rejoice.

I really do hope that meeting my kiddos from week two, “A Marvelous Work” is just the beginning to a lifetime of friendships, laughter, and love.

I hope and pray that it is. I’ve continued to bother them 🫣 and message them 🤪 and think about them 😉. It’s up to them to respond back, and unfortunately, I don’t have the power to make sure that happens.

So if they choose to stop responding someday (and some already have 💔😭), I have hope that everything will be okay because I know that it is just the beginning.

I know that the miracles that I’ve taken part of are just the beginning of what’s to come.

The work I’ve put into being a disciple of Jesus Christ is just the beginning.

The majesties that the Lord has for us have just begun.

This great and marvelous work has just begun.

The plan Heavenly Father has for me and for you has just begun.

I’m excited for that. I’m a little nervous too, but I’m trying to implement hope and fight the fear I may feel.

I hope my kids, my friends, know that Heavenly Father has a plan for them. One that is going to include happiness. One that is going to include miracles and majesties that they’ve never seen before. One that is going to be most meaningful if they bring the Savior with them in all that they do.

I have a testimony that it really is just the beginning.

Thank you to my kids who taught me that week two. Who made (and make) me excited for that statement to be true. Who choose to stay in contact. Who bless my life.

Saying goodbye on Saturday morning was really hard. But I truly hope that it wasn’t goodbye. I hope it was simply a “see you later.”

For those that have stopped messaging the group chat or stopped talking to everyone, one thing I want to make sure you know is that it is never too late.

If you haven’t talked to me in three years (or ten) and one day you want to, I will welcome you back with welcome arms and a big smile on my face.

I know the Savior feels the same.

Don’t wait for three years though. Don’t even wait til tomorrow.

Invite Him in today, and together, the joy you feel will be just the beginning.

But you want to know what the best part of all of that is?

If it’s just the beginning, that means the best is yet to come.

And even better than that, is that it always will.