Tim Tebow and Rejoicing in Goodness

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not that in to professional sports.

Olympics? Love ‘em. College sports? GO COUGARS! (And Rock Chalk Jayhawk!)

But the NBA or the NFL? Eh.

But once in awhile, the professional sports world will interest me. Like when the Red Sox finally broke the Curse of the Bambino. Or when Jimmer was drafted into the NBA. Or more recently, when Tim Tebow came under fire (and still is under fire . . . though not as much after the Broncos lost last Saturday) for being so good. Obnoxiously good, some people say.

My question is: what’s wrong with being good? Why is it such a crime to do well and be good?

You’d think people would be happy that there is a successful NFL player who doesn’t abuse his girlfriend or kill dogs. But instead of being glad that there is another person to add to the too-small handful of role models in professional sports, many people mock Tebow for his goodness and his purity. (Saturday Night Live, anyone?)

You’d think we’d applaud goodness when it’s so rarely found.

I’m not saying that everyone mocks Tim Tebow for his character. And I’m not saying that he’s the only good professional sports player out there. Because that’s not true. Nor I am saying that he’s perfect. Because let’s be honest: nobody on this earth is.

But it does bother me that people are so quick to mock others who are good and successful.

So . . . why do we do it?

Based on my limited experience of observing human nature, here are three possibilities:

1) Good people make us ordinary people feel guilty. No one likes to see someone doing the right things we know we should be doing. And instead of changing our behavior, we simply blame the other guy for being “self-righteous” or “too preachy” . . . even if he’s not being preachy and simply living a good life.  

2) “No one can be that good.” People tend to be pessimistic about others. Instead of rooting for others, we wait for hamartia, or that tragic flaw, to rear its ugly head. We wait on the edge of our seats for their fall from grace—after all, who doesn’t love a good Greek tragedy? 

But why do we insist that people can’t be good? Why do we wait for them to “become like us” rather than trying to better ourselves and become like them? It seems uncharitable to me. I, for one, want good, solid people in this world. I think we should cheer for them rather than bring them down.

3) Jealousy. It’s easy to become jealous of others’ successes, especially when they have it all. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be ridiculously talented, good-looking, and rich? And when a person is genuinely good, we can’t find anything to say, “well, at least I’m better than them in this or that.” Jealousy is a hard thing to suppress, especially when you want what the other person has. But if we want to be truly happy, we have to learn how to control envy.

Something that I’ve thought about recently in regard to this is the concept of “rejoicing with them that rejoice.” In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, our baptismal covenants require us to “bear one another’s burdens, that they might be light [. . .] and mourn with those that mourn, comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places” (Mosiah 18:8-9). These are beautiful promises to make with God and toward each other, and when I obey these covenants, I am happy.

But I’ve also realized how important it is to “rejoice with those who rejoice.” Now, I’m not saying that this should be added to the baptismal covenant. But I do think that being genuinely happy for others when they righteously succeed is important to becoming a saint. In order to have charity, we have to learn how to rejoice in others’ righteous endeavors and successes. Because charity is “kind, [and] envieth not” (1 Corinthians 13:4).

Besides that, learning how to be happy for others makes you a happier individual. J

Not that I’m perfect in “rejoicing with those that rejoice.” It’s a work in progress. But a worthy goal, nonetheless.

So, although I don’t care much for professional sports, I will applaud Tim Tebow for his good character. We need more people like him in the world. 

Ice Cream Serenade

Tonight my mom, sister and I got some ice cream from I Like Ike's Cream. Because it was one of those nights when you just need some good ice cream. You know what I mean.

They serve Blue Bell ice cream, which is the best ice cream in the world, in case you were wondering. 

While the employees were scooping up our creamy dessert, Adele's "Someone Like You" came on their radio. 

And everyone started singing along. 

Everyone: the cashier, the girl scooping ice cream, the boy scooping ice cream, my little sister, the couple at the counter, the people outside, and the man in the moon.

Except for me. I was silently laughing at everyone. It was probably the funniest thing I've seen all day. 

Another funny thing? 

This video. Watch it. Laugh at it. It is great. 

. . . again?

Well, my MTC entry date was moved again. But instead of being moved up, I was moved back later this time. Two weeks later.

I'm now scheduled to leave February 15th instead of February 1st. (Which is still a month earlier than I was originally going to enter the MTC.) Apparently it's for a language pilot program, to see if they can teach us Russian in 9 weeks instead of 12.

And I'm not so sure how I feel about it.

There are pros and cons, of course. I've already gone through the positives and negatives of this situation dozens of times.

But I guess the biggest thing is that I was really getting ready to go--just get everything done and then--zip!--off.

I know it's only two extra weeks. And those extra weeks will be helpful in preparations and good-byes.

Still. I don't like this constant back-and-forth, whiplash movement of my life recently.

But I'd better get used to it. Life is change. *sigh*

New Specs

New glasses are always fun.

Would you believe that this is only my fourth new pair of glasses? And this is from a girl who has worn glasses since Kindergarten.

What can I say? I'm a creature of habit and extremely stubborn. (You wouldn't think I was stubborn, but I am. And there's nothing you can do about it. So there. Ha.)

Seriously, though. Fourth pair. I've only had five pairs of glasses in my lifetime. Maybe it's not as weird as it seems? . . . you'll have to tell me.

I can remember every pair I had, and I still have them all except for my Kindergarten-2nd grade glasses (but for the record, they were cute and turquoise. With Mickey Mouse on the sides of the frames).

These are my 2nd-grade through 9th-grade glasses. Yes, you read that right. I wore them for about 8 years. Yikes.

Every time I put them on for fun I'm reminded at how HUGE they are. Like owl eyes. Or Harry Potter meets
Steve Urkel.

Now imagine them on a second-grader's face.


HUGE.

They ate my face up.

Still, good memories. Ohhhh, 90s fashion.

When I switched from my monster-glasses, I didn't go to contacts. Nope, still too stubborn to switch. (My switch to contacts is another story for another time.) Instead, I got these:

Nice, simple, conservative-style glasses. If you've known me the past six years, you've most likely seen me in these glasses. (And yes. I've had these glasses for six years. Creature of habit, remember.)

But now, new glasses! And I like them lots:

Cheesin' it up just for you. Because I love you. 

Oh, glasses. I have a love-hate relationship with them. But today I love them.

"Write more happiness into the world." 
        ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett (author of The Secret Garden and A Little Princess)

                                            . . . a good creed, if I do say so myself. 

The Undergraduate MAD

It's important to take care of your health while preparing for a mission. It's also important to take preventative measures so you don't get, say, typhoid fever, dysentery, campylobacteriosis, or some other lovely disease from yucky water. 

Besides the obvious (i.e., immunizations, typhoid pills, etc., etc.) I decided to invest in a filtered water bottle. 

Yay for clean water! And shameless product placement. 

Anywho. 

When we bought the water bottle, we were talking to the nice saleslady and she said that she could put my name or initials on my water bottle. I figured that sounded like a good idea. I mean, after going through all the trouble of buying a filtered water bottle, I don't want my companion to get her germs all over it. Companion germs = almost as bad as botulism. 

Seriously though, I thought it'd be fun to have my initials on my water bottle. So I told the saleslady: 

"MBA." 

We talked for a little bit about Ukraine, how cold it was going to be, and how great it would be to have this water bottle while she got the vinyl letters ready. 

Then she was distracted by her boss.

And I was distracted by my mom. 

When the saleslady started putting on the letters, I noticed that something wasn't right, but I hesitated and didn't correct her. Instead, I got a water bottle with the letters: 

"MAD." 

It's hard to get a picture of the entire "MAD." 

Awesome. 

I now have a water bottle with anger issues. 

And if anyone drinks out of my water bottle, I will be mad. Because as we all know, companion's germs = almost as bad as botulism. 

I take my clean water seriously. Very, very seriously. 

September the First

It's the start of a new semester and I am not going back to school.

Guys, it's so weird.

I was on-campus just yesterday helping my sister get textbooks from the Bookstore. We walked through the aisles, checking up and down to discover Elementary Linear Algebra's hiding place (I didn't want to find it, but my sister did), and searching in vain to find the Teachings of the Living Prophets manual.

But I didn't get any books. No Shakespeare, no Woolf, no American History textbooks.

And although my pocketbook was happy, it didn't feel quite right to me.

I mean, school is what I do. It's what I've done since Kindergarten, and I like it. And am quite good at it. It's so weird to not be going back when all of my friends are.

The only thing I can compare this with (and this is extremely nerdy, but I don't care. I've accepted and embraced the fact that I am a nerd.) is the seventh Harry Potter book. The part where the trio is hiding out in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and Death Eaters are stalking the neighborhood, trying to find their hiding place. On September 1st--the day they would start their seventh year at Hogwarts under normal circumstances--Harry tells Ron and Hermione that:

“There are still a load of Death Eaters watching this house,” he told Ron as he ate, “more than usual. It’s like they’re hoping we’ll march out carrying our school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express.”


Ron glanced at his watch.


“I’ve been thinking about that all day. It left nearly six hours ago. Weird, not being on it, isn’t it?”

And it is weird not "being on it." I'm not back in Provo. I'm not going to class tomorrow. I'm not going to have my name called out in class. I'm not going to see my friends on campus.

It feels so surreal. To be completely honest and silly, I feel a tad rebellious, like I'm skipping class or something, because it doesn't feel real yet. 

But I'm also feeling a tad nostalgic, like Harry:

"In his mind’s eye Harry seemed to see the scarlet steam engine as he and Ron had once followed it by air, shimmering between fields and hills, a rippling scarlet caterpillar. He was sure Ginny, Neville, and Luna were sitting together at this moment, perhaps wondering where he, Ron, and Hermione were [. . .]"


I realized yesterday when I was on campus how much I love BYU. I'm going to miss it for 18 months. And although my situation is nothing like Harry's (or is it? . . . perhaps the fate of the wizarding and Muggle worlds does rest on my shoulders), I still feel that pang of homesickness, and that longing for familiarity.

and I still hope, just hope, that someone wonders where I am, too.