Stream of Consciousness

Teaching in a tattoo parlor. This was enlightening. I walked in, stared at the reclining black chair in the corner, and paused. "Are you...a barber?" I offered. Just trying to be conversational. I didn't even notice the brazen photos on the wall or the bottles of ink stacked in boxes around the room.

But the ex-convict tattoo-artist is having us back for a second lesson later this week. He promised to read the Book of Mormon. I am tempted to be hopeful.

Dogs. Ugh. Must every Oklahoman own a minimum of three motley canines? They shed fur, they smell foul, and they break all personal barriers. But people don't like you unless you like their dogs. And so I'm learning. I pretend that they don't stink, and I let them sit on my lap. I try not to back up when they bark at the door. I use lint removers daily. And who knows but that I might actually like them one day?

After all, ours is a gospel that preaches a change of heart.

Cohabitation. It's a textbook term. The reality isn't as tidy as a textbook. Sometimes they love each other, sometimes they don't. They have high ideals, but marriage and a happy family didn't play out like they imagined they would. They talk about the issue long before we broach the topic. I suppose the conscience convicts us long before the lessons do. What is to be done for it? What can we, innocent 20-something year old girls, say about the drunk boyfriend and the forever partner? 

Whew. We're not counselors. But we have truth, and that makes us bold. As confident single women raised on principles and virtue and principle, we teach them truth. Repentance. Old-fashioned chastity. Faithfulness. Obedience to God. Is it enough? I believe it is.

The Book of Mormon. I've never read it like this before. Suddenly I feel the songwriters sorrow in Nephi's psalm. I'm captivated by King Benjamin's organized presentation of doctrine. I feel the exultation of the soul who receives  I know a little better what it means to rely on the Spirit.

Thanks, dear Heavenly Father, for letting me be a missionary.