DOOM ON YOU!

"I think about death more," Chris said. "And if I am doing the right things. You just don't think about that before you turn 40."

I blinked.

What...?

I've been thinking about both of those things since I was, like, five.

No, really.

I remember lying in bed at night thinking about my eternal soul, and if I stood right before God. And as the years have gone by, and I have gained more experience, I wonder not only if I stand right before God, but if I have enough time to become so if I'm not.

I made for a really boring child, I think.

I remember Emily, in immense frustration with me, practically shaking me and exclaiming, "WHY DO YOU DO EVERYTHING MOM AND DAD SAY??!??!?!"

I didn't answer her. But in my head I did. My answer was brief, and to the point: "Because God asked me to. See the 5th commandment."

Now, don't get me wrong, I've had my share of messing up, and doing things in spite of mom and dad's decrees (like not keeping my curfew...and, really, I still think inflicting a curfew on a 20-year-old woman a bit tiresome, but I suppose I won't when Eva and Lily grow up, and I am sitting up on the couch late at night chewing my fingernails off).

And not that mom and dad were all "DOOM ON YOU!" or anything. My experience with them was one of them teaching me the natural consequences of not listening to their counsel: "If you don't listen to what the Spirit tells you, he won't talk to you anymore." "If you waste time, you will be accountable to Heavenly Father, so stop playing that stupid game." "If you don't pay attention, you will crash the car into a fence...again." " If you stay out late, I will eat your head."

I don't know why I have always had the weighty matters of the soul on my mind, but I have. Do I think about my impending death? Yes. Perhaps when I disappeared years ago, I was carried away to my Father and he had a heart-to-heart with his wide-eyed 2-year-old (wow, lots of hyphens) daughter and explained to me that life is brief and to not mess up too much. I don't know. Whatever it was, I felt compelled to be right with the world, even if it meant I had to be brutally honest with people, which made both parties uncomfortable (and, in my case, also humiliated). After years of this, I learned to just not say anything without carefully weighing it first (usually).

As time has gone on, I have learned to lighten up a little about some things, but at the same time, things weigh heavier on me than they used to. That's the problem with life. You gain experience, and it does two things: it helps you see the bright side, but it also forces you to see things as they truly are. Sorta like this: As you plummet to the ground from a very tall mountain, it's a nice view, and you get the sensation of flying, but, man, that smack on the ground is gonna smart like no other.

It's a bitter-sweet feeling to have been carrying eternity and mortality around from such a young age. But God made us all different, and each of us is that way because we each learn differently. I guess I just need to figure out what I'm supposed to get out of it.