Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Missionaries and dating but not dating missionaries

Tonight I took the missionaries out to dinner.  I try to do this at least once a month for several reasons: 

-blessings
-awkward conversations
-my parents drilled this into my soul as a habit of service
-blessings

The missionaries we have serving in my ward right now are just perfectly amazing and the right amount of weird.  It's a match made in heaven/the Denver North Mission.  They are both big guys with a high school resume full of playing in football games and an endearing lack of social skills.

They requested dinner at this BBQ place and after 3 baskets of gratuitous rolls, we finally got our meals and began to chomp down on meat and mac and cheese. #blessings

One of the missionaries began to talk about his girlfriend and it was an enlightening moment for me.  Homeboy is only 21 years old and is dating a 30 year old.  Which, hey, props and love to that.  But the best part is this: they never actually dated before he left on his mission.  Missionary made sure to include in his story that he was dating someone else leading up to his mission, he ended whatever that was, left, and then this 30 year old girl he was friends with and him committed to each other over email.


WHAT.



This has me rethinking everything.


Unrelated: if you guys know anyone to set me with up, 20 is not too young. 

Gratitude: A Short List

Things I am grateful for, in no particular order:

Reminders of eternity, when things go seemingly wrong,
Eye connections with strangers in cars; when I'm feeling extra strong.
Books and words that make me feel,
Friends who help me deal.
Strangers who make me feel like I belong;
And my prayers when I kneel.

Magic moments of pure bliss,
And when I'm lucky, a quick kiss.
Accepting emotions but fighting sorrow;
Thinking about how lucky I am for tomorrow.

When ice cream tastes especially sweet and when my bed feels extra warm,
My family when I need them most and when I get to perform.
Popcorn and movies and going solo,
Knowing in Portuguese that cake means bolo,
Not feeling any pressure to conform,
And a rhyming dictionary that tells me to put polo.

Mediocre poetry and the chance to write,
Traveling and airplanes and always taking flight.
Dancing and angels and Heavenly Beings,
Grateful for a life so freeing.

Note: I've been strangely more connected to poetry recently but I feel weird about sharing it so just an fyi and bye.