Happiness is a Choice

I knew a kid who was called to serve a mission in a foreign land, and had to learn to speak the language. Prior to this appointment, he had minimal exposure to the culture or language of these people he had been called to serve. His patriarchal blessing, however, promised that he'd accomplish the feat of mastery over foreign languages through his faith and diligence.

After a few months out on his mission, however, his parents informed me that he was struggling terribly to learn the language, and communicate with the people he met. Growing up around traditions from another culture (Samoan), and being familiar with the culture and language he was new to, I understood the difficulties that this kid was facing. His parents and I and my best friend tossed around ideas on how we could help him out (my best friend is fluent in the aforementioned language and culture), and we finally decided that there was little we could do but pray on his behalf, for the mental and emotional strength he needed to overcome his struggles with the language barriers.

I committed to praying for him on several occasions over the next year. Whenever I spoke with this kid's parents, they would inform me of the progress he was making, and they looked more and more relieved and happy for the success their son was finding in this difficult trial.

After he returned, I spoke to him about his mission, about his experience with the people and the culture. He lightly spoke about it, and made no deal about his mission, either good or bad. Then, later, I heard him speak sarcastically about the language and returning to that place, and was really saddened by his candor. Didn't this guy realize that there were people out there that were praying for him while he was on his mission? That we asked Heavenly Father to help HIM specifically with his trial? That the very thing he was taking so lightly, others had taken seriously enough to pray to God about?

I continued in this vain for about a week until my mind was taken back to an experience I had years ago. I remember being 20 years old, and very unhappy with the way my life was going. I had envisioned my perfect life as a child: doing a semester of BYU after high school before leaving on a mission right at 19; coming home at 21; getting married by 22; finishing college at 24; being discovered by 25; selling a million records by 26; having 6 children (including a set of twins) by 30; and yada yada, right?! Instead, I was 20, with a year of BYU-I under my belt, no plans to return; no mission call; disfellowshipped from the church; and worst of all, the gradual realization that I was gay, and probably never going to marry or have children! I was very depressed.

During this time, I was visiting my then bishop every week. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. He didn't always tell me what I wanted to hear, but he always told me what I needed to hear, and didn't do it until after he listened to what I had to say. He gave me the most sound advice I'd ever received: "Happiness is a CHOICE." He taught me that happy people don't end up that way by accident. They make the conscious decision to be happy, and that I could be like that if I simply chose to be." I remember trying, a little in vain in the beginning. But one weekend, I did find a way to be happy, and I remember things going well for me. A good friend asked me specifically about that weekend later that month, after not seeing or visiting with me for quite a while. After I declared to him my positive experience, he gave me a big hug and said, "Good, because that's the day where I felt impressed to pray for you."

Years later, I'm reminded of the choice that I have: the choice to feel the way that I want to feel. No matter what is going on in my life, I can either moan and groan, and complain about my circumstances, or I can choose to bear my burden with hope and faith, with the surety that pain is temporary, and that I will make it through whatever is happening. I'm sure that when Christ suffered for me in the Garden, that he did not do it begrudgingly. He willingly atoned for my sins, out of love and out of faith in me. Jesus suffered so much more than I ever will have to, so that I don't have to. So why should I choose to? I am going to follow his example, and bear my burden with a positive spirit, with the reassurance that I have a Savior who knows exactly what I'm feeling, and knows how to succor me. Even if I must bear a difficult trial like SSA, or being single, for the rest of this short mortal life, I will die in the real hope that Heavenly Father has prepared a way for me to experience eternal and everlasting happiness with Him, which gift is more precious and priceless to me than any other temporary things this world has offered me for pleasure. I have made my decision, and I am happier now than I was when I was that confused 20 year old kid.

I am never going to complain about having SSA again, or any other seemingly impossible trial I will face. I will choose to be happy in the knowledge that God would never give me more than I can handle, especially with Him there with me. Besides, I never know who is praying for me!