Elizabeth

Three or four years ago I met a 20-year-old named Elizabeth who looked like she was 10. Elizabeth was mentally challenged and, as a sophomore in high school, I got to spend half the day with her at this Special Olympics carnival service event. She completely changed my life and the experiences I had with her were humorous and sacred and challenging and freeing. She taught me way more about Heavenly Father's children and His love than I have ever learned in hours of meetings or conferences. In class this week, we talked about faith, hope, and charity. It wasn't until this moment--when I sat down to write--did Elizabeth and her family come into my mind. If charity is love that comes from Christ, the things we do on Earth are only feeble attempts to feel charity. We aren't charity--we try to find it in service, in smiles, and in sharing our love. But charity was a one time event that we try to replicate and bring alive. I used to think that it was some third party blob floating around that well-groomed members talked about with such high regards. Christ is charity. Love is charity. Elizabeth is charity; kind, not puffed up, not easily provoked, no envy, not exclusive. The coolest thing I learned this week had to do with charity "seeking not her own". Christ sought Heavenly Father's will and not His own, but there is a second meaning to that phrase. If charity seeketh her own, charity would seek charity. But what about the people who don't have charity, who don't have love or kindness? To be able to love someone who is not like you, to love someone who is far off the path, that is what it's all about. In Christ's mortal ministry he sought not His own--he spent most of His days with the corrupt and the stained. He is the be all and end all of everything--He is the example and the way and the truth and the light and the life and the everything. And sometimes it's hard for me to remember being near my Savior--it's hard for me to picture one solitary man on this Earth becoming the Prince of it all, but then I remember Elizabeth and her light and the time I spent with people like her. Those times remind me that I am not alone and that there is something so much more.