A Silent Hallelujah

This post will be very vulnerable. Some of you will not agree with what you will read, but I ask of all to read with an open mind and empathy to the experience to which I am writing about.

Thank you.

A Silent Hallelujah

It had been a struggle to the top of the hill. It was early morning, and I was perspiring from the exercise. BYU Vocal Point played in my ears as I looked out over the view. A nice, big house on the left, and on the right, the majestic Lago Atitlan, with a stunning view of Volcan Atitlan and Toliman. I snapped a quick picture, then turned around, and started back down the Hill to return home. But then something stopped me. A surge. A surge of emotion that seemed to come from the depths of my soul. I turned around and returned to my spot on the hill. I took out my earbuds and did something that I hadn't done in a while. I listened. And then I felt. The numbness I had been applying broke and in came my heart. An incredible surge of sadness, joy, regret, excitement, passion, love, stress, and peace. The surge stung my eyes and made my heart ache. Suddenly, like a great wave, the memories from the last 2 1/2 years came crashing over me. I thought back to the beginning of Freshman year, and the crisis that I went through. I remembered the loss of most of my friends. I remembered my trip to Haiti and how much it changed me. I remembered joining debate and making WA friends for the first time. I remembered, with much joy, my first Elevation. I painfully remembered my first real move, to Costa Rica. I remember the hikes and the challenges.I remembered dancing in the kitchen, shooting Dad with a BB gun, making more friends through Williamsburg, the hours zooming. I remembered seeing Grandma and Grandpa again. Oh, how I love them! I remembered Lake Arenal, I remembered moving to Guatemala and "hanging out" with kids for the first time in months. I remembered seminary and muffins ad late nights. I remembered leaving home for two months, alone. I remembered Washington D.C., visiting Sam and Emily, the debate finals. I remembered the mountains of Provo, Utah. I remembered the homesickness. I remembered my 2nd and 3rd Elevation. I remembered coming home. I remembered the two Youth Groups in Guatemala. I remembered the Homestead and the tube. I remembered the Cultiva Group. I remembered passion and goodbyes. I remembered tears. I remembered the start of Junior Year. I remembered seeing the Jensens every day. Then, I felt all of that. All at once, a great roar in my ears. After that had cleared, I thought of my Savior, Jesus Christ. I thought of my slow, but steady, conversion process. I thought of my progress and faith. Then I thought of the majesty of Jesus Christ. Goosebumps chilled my body as I reflected on the power of the Atonement, the grandeur of the Planet Earth. I thought of Jesus Christ in my own life, and how hot he had heated the Refiner's Fire for me. Then I was still. A bird chirped. A dog barked. A car door slammed. There I stood, overlooking a magnificent lake. I listened, I felt. I thanked my God for everything. I thanked my God for my abundance. Then I was still once more. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, a silent hallelujah escaped my heart. It swelled and grew until it was like a Trumpet sounding. The silent hallelujah shook the Earth. Then all was quiet. I slowly turned around and started home. I arrived and continued my day as normal. But the silent hallelujah still echoed in my heart. It always will.

"Therefore, let your hearts be comforted concerning Zion, ... be still and know that I am God."

- D&C 101:16