A Post from the Center of the Universe

If you’ve been following my life to any sort of degree, you’ll notice that all I do on facebook is post beautifully tweaked pictures to instagram. And if you’ve been following those, you’ll know that for the past month and a half, I have been living in Washington, DC.

Jumping right in, it’s pretty much my favorite place on this planet. And since this planet is currently the only one I can live on, DC pretty much beats out all other places on my ‘favorites’ list. It’s everything I could ever want in a city: history, politics, places to eat, places to shop (lol, like I have money to shop), and wonderful people.

I’m writing this post on the steps of the Jefferson Monument. It’s pretty cool, but I think the Lincoln Monument is still my favorite. That being said, the Jefferson is pretty cool because it’s right on the Potomac. Like, I could walk across the platform in front of me and dive in if I wanted. No one would even stop me. Here’s a pic of my current view:

It’s pretty spiffy. The river is kind of gross, though. In the right light, I could lie to myself and say it’s green like some of the rivers back home. But then I would go to hell for lying. So far, the river is the grossest thing here. But if you’re not close to it, it adds a nice effect to the whole scene. It reminds me of home.

To be fair, though, I can’t even compare home to DC. Sandpoint has a whopping population of 10,000 people if I include its suburbs. Washington, DC, has 646,449 just in the district alone (according to Wikipedia; take that as you will). That’s a LOT of Sandpoints. I could go the whole time I’m here and not see the same person twice on my way to work. That could NEVER happen back home.

I absolutely love it. So many people…there is so much life here! There is so much going on! And everyone has a different opinion. It is such a wonderful break from Provo, where everyone overlaps on opinions that are very close to the same. That was an overgeneralization, I know; please forgive me. But it often feels that way as I walk the halls at BYU. I often feel like I’m just so different that I can never fit in.

But here in DC, I fit in because I’m different. Different has become the norm, and I love it. I’ve found out that I am far more liberal in my politics than I ever thought I was. And that’s okay. Just because I’m a Mormon doesn’t mean that I have to be a conservative political figure. I work for a guy that is a Democrat and a Mormon, and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to hell. That’s just a hunch, though, based on my few interactions with him.

So if DC has taught me anything so far, it’s that I’m different than a lot of people. I’m different than the majority of people at BYU. But DC has also taught me that this is okay. It’s starting to teach me that I’m not going to be the same as other people, and that their opinions really shouldn’t have any sort of traction on how I feel about myself. My opinion of myself is the only one that matters (apart from how God views me). And so, I’m learning how to be okay with my difference. I’m learning how to value myself for what I bring to the table. And being able to see what I bring to the table allows me to change the things that maybe aren’t so great (I’m looking at you, eternal cynicism).

So, come to DC if you feel different. Come to DC if you don’t. It’s pretty great either way. And if you come while I’m here, I can give you a pretty sweet tour of the Capitol, if I’m allowed to brag (SPOILER ALERT: I am).

More unfiltered pics. If you like filters, then check facebook or my instagram (@lukeiamyourfoster).

-Luke

It IS the Jedi Way

Forgive me for this post, team. It's currently 1a, and I'm waiting for my laundry to finish. I've run out of my Netflix marathon (House of Cards; because politics), YouTube has nothing new to show me, and fireworks are happening just outside my window. Sleep is not really on the agenda. So, I get to write on my blog.

I recently finished playing through one of my favorite video games, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2. (Yes, this is a video game post. Feel free to quit reading if you want. No? Alrighty then, I'll press on.) Really, it was going to be pretty difficult for Microsoft and BioWare, the companies that produced the game, to mess it up for me. If you haven't noticed, I'm a pretty big Star Wars fan. I own all the movies thanks to a Star-Wars-themed Christmas during high school. I have a small collection of cheap plastic lightsabers in my room at home. Heck, even the name of my blog speaks to my fandom.

What follows comes from my journal the day after I completed the game for the xth time, where x is an unknown number. I made a few additions so that it makes sense to those that have never played the game.

"From playing this game, I've learned that conflict between ourselves and something else is what brings about growth. I've learned that apathy is death. I've learned that every action has consequences.

I play it too much. But, I really like it. I like being able to lose myself in a galaxy far, far away. All of Star Wars is about the ultimate battle between good and evil and how that battle is waged within ourselves. It's really cool.

It also doesn't hurt that swinging around lightsabers is stupidly awesome.

Normally, I play through as a dark side character. The dark side makes things ridiculously easy. But this time, I was light side. That was mostly a forced result because the game glitches at the end of the dark side story line. But still, I chose to be light side, and I chose to be the best light side I could be.

The way this game works is based on making choices. Certain actions and conversation choices will grant you either light side or dark side points. Accumulation of these points pushes you further towards either end of the spectrum. If you play out the light side choices correctly, you are pretty much the best, truest Jedi ever.

I want to be like that.

I want to be the truest me. I want to be the best me. Will I make mistakes? Will I accidentally accumulate dark side points? Yeah. But I can always get light side points in the very next choice, the very next scenario. I can come right back.

The last thing this game taught me? It's never too late to be redeemed."

Luke

Equality, Justice, Pokémon

I'm mostly writing this to get all these things out of my head. Sorry if it sounds disjointed.

I don't expect many people to read this, if any do at all. My blog doesn't get hardly any traffic, and I don't think that I'll be sharing this post. I don't fancy diving headfirst into the mudslinging that's going on, but I feel like I need to do my piece to defend what I know and believe.

First things first: I hate this apparent battle that is going on. Every day, I get on facebook and see some blog post or newspaper article that talks about the Church and how it is handling the Ordain Women movement and how it is handling homosexuality. I hate it. I hate that it populates my news feed, something that should be filled with pictures of my friends, their adorable babies, and/or Pokémon. I hate that I see good people forming ranks and taking shots at one another. I hate seeing people write negative things about the Church that has been such a crucial contributor to my understanding of the universe and my own identity. I hate it! It's awful!

Why are we fighting this battle? Equality? Is that the label that we're putting on it? If I can be perfectly honest (and I can because it's my blog), that's a stupid label. Do we as humans really think that we understand equality and justice? How long ago was it that we said "All men are created equal?" Last I checked, that was 1776(ish) AD. That means that it took us 1776 years (give or take some if you want) since the time of Christ to come up with that idea. And that idea wasn't even perfect when we said it. "All men are created equal" is still evolving: it only included civil rights for African Americans in the 1960s, and it has only grown to include women even more recently.

Let's look at the justice side. Let's not forget that Hammurabi came up with "an eye for an eye," and that is certainly not how we view justice today. There is no way that a judge will issue that sentence. And speaking of judges, these are the people we employ to come up with justice. They are people, just like you and me, who are entitled to their own opinions and thoughts. Since they are normal people, they are not perfect. They make mistakes just like you and me.

Our concepts of justice and equality are constantly changing and evolving. Please don't misunderstand: I wholeheartedly believe that is a good thing. Our understanding of the world is supposed to grow; God sent us here for that very purpose. Fighting and bickering and accusing each other, though? Those aren't God's tools; they're Satan's. We all know how God works (and no, "in mysterious ways" is not the correct response). He works through goodness, peace, and love. Is there much love in war? Not often.

I think a big problem with this battle is people's attitudes. Are we being prideful, thinking that we've done our research and know our stuff? Are we so certain of ourselves that everyone else must be wrong? Or are we humble enough to accept that maybe we've been mislead along the way and need to come back? Are we still willing to learn? If we approach our questions about doctrine and the Gospel with humility instead of pride, we can discover the truth about anything.

From my own personal experience, I have found that bishops are more than willing to answer questions and address concerns when humility is expressed over pride. Certainly, God doesn't want blind-faith followers. He is training us to be Gods ourselves! He does not operate by blind faith; why should we? He wants us to ask questions and to understand: that's the whole point of revelation!! I can easily imagine him pacing back and forth, anxious to the point of bursting because He wants to help us. "Ask, and ye shall receive." He commanded us to ask Him for things. But in order to get those things, we have to be humble. We have to be willing to accept an answer that we might not agree with. And if that is the answer, then that is the answer.

Here's what I know: God lives. He loves us. He wants us to be happy. He is sad when we are sad, feels pain when we feel pain, and knows our hearts and minds. He wants us to return to Him. He has provided us with a Savior, with a Church, and with prophets to help us along the way because He knew that we would need all the help we could get.

Should women be ordained to the Priesthood? I don't know. Should gays be allowed to marry? I don't know. I have my own personal beliefs on each matter, but those beliefs are not necessarily important. God knows who should have the Priesthood and who should be allowed to marry. I believe that He has already made those points clear, but I understand if people are still confused (sorry if that sounded degrading; that wasn't my intent). I think that we should focus on the Savior's Atonement instead of on some of the details. It's important to remember that the Atonement is the great equalizer (there's that equality concept again). If we mere mortals miss things in this life that are important, the Atonement is going to make up for it.

How? I don't know. But I have faith in my perfect Heavenly Father and His ability to make it all happen.

So, can we cut the bickering? I miss my Pokémon memes...

Avec un peu d'espoir...

Hey team--

So, I know that it's been a super long time since I last wrote. I looked at the date on the last post: April 2013. That was over a year ago, in case you didn't want to do the math. I don't blame you because I don't like doing math either. It's one of the reasons I picked political science as a major.

But I'm getting off point, as I so often do. This past Sunday was Mother's Day. As is often the case, I was called on to speak in Church. Seriously, this has happened, like, each year for the past four years. I've had at least 4 different bishops in four different wards in that time. What brain wavelength are they all transmitting on?! Do they pass that along with my information from one ward to the next? "This is Luke. He won't tell you that he plays the piano, but he does. Also, he makes a great Mother's Day speaker." It's crazy. Even my mom noticed when I told her about it.

So, because it was Mother's Day, I decided to tell my whole ward how awesome my mom is. She's pretty awesome. My ward got more details than you're all getting (#sorrynotsorry). Even so, the main topic of my talk was hope, and how my mom taught me to hope.

I imagine you're all thinking something along these lines: "Luke hopes? Really?" I don't blame you. I've had a lot of people tell me I lack hope or I hate life or something equally negative (I'm looking at you, Logan; also at my NH girls). I'll give that to you. I'm often a negative person. I often lack hope. There, I'm out.

The point was that my mom has taught me so much about hope in the past 5-or-so years of my life. My problem was that I just didn't realize it at the time. Hindsight is 20-20, right? True story.

Giving the talk on Sunday really opened my eyes to that. I learned that hope is more than just a wish or desire: it's a very real trust that I depend on. I learned that while I bemoan my mistakes and beat myself up for them, I do know that I can change. I can hope to become better because I know in whom I have trusted. I have placed my trust in God. Any higher power would do, but I choose God because I know the most about Him. And because I place that trust in Him, I can hope for a better world, a better life for myself and for others.

I learned all that because my mom challenged me to learn. Could I have learned it on my own? Yeah. Would I have? Maybe. It's not certain either way.

Probably more powerful is my mom's own example of hope. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2011, I was terrified. "She can't die," I thought. "What would I do? How would I go on?" In my mind, she wasn't going to die. That wasn't faith or trust in God, though; that was my inability to conceive of such a thing happening. My mom was different. The only thing she worried about was losing her hair. Period. And even that she pulled off gracefully. She always told me that even though she never felt like it was her time, everything would work out in the end.

It took me awhile, but I eventually caught on. She had that trust in God that allowed her to hope for a life without cancer, even a life with her hair back. She got that life (both of them), but that's not the point. The point is that she didn't experience fear or sadness for as long as I did. Her hope pulled her through.

That's something that will stick with me for a long time. Hope is such a powerful thing. It motivates us to be better while at the same time anchoring us to something solid for when times are hard. It is through hope that I can overcome my own weaknesses and make a better life for myself and those around me.

And it was my mom who taught me that.