Boys, Boxes, and Becoming

"What is it with boys and boxes?!" my sister exclaimed over my chocolate birthday cake. "I just talked to a guy who had a whole theory on boxes and the differences between men and women. He said that men's minds are like boxes. They have a separate box for everything--Work, school, family, etc. Of course, because they're guys, girls are in every box. They can only open one box at a time and work on something. Women, on the other hand, take all their boxes, dump them out, and then throw it all in a blender."

Hmm....Okay, I'll grant that we might dump them all out, but the blender?! That was going a little far.

So what was the deal this week with boys and boxes? It all began Friday at work. I've had a lot of jobs in my life and am used to walking in and doing whatever the boss says. Teaching at the MTC, however, doesn't quite work that way. I mean, I suppose it does, but "the boss" is a little different and finding out what He says certainly requires more concerted effort on my part. So, as I was meditating Friday about what to do with these eager, almost-ready-to-go-to-the-field elders, I got "the feeling." You know, the I-know-this-is-what-I-should-do-but-it's-certainly-not-the-most-logical-or-comfortable-or-even-what-I-want-to-do" feeling? Yep. Well, "the feeling" said that I should let the elders teach me that day. Me. The real, true, I have a life outside these cinderblock walls where my first name's not "Hermana" and my problems are something more than just not understanding the words "restoration" and "apostacy" me. The me that has real desires and fears and worries.

My first thought was, "Are you kidding?" Let a bunch of 19 year old boys who say things like, "Uh...just one question. What's your real hair color?" ("Elders! For the last time! I do not dye my hair!") into my soul? It had to be a joke. It wasn't possible that I really should let them teach me!
And yet, I found myself allowing each companionship to come interview me. Some were cautious while others jumped right in with, "Hi! How are you? Tell me, what is the biggest cause of stress in your life right now?" Or, "So...what worries you most?" And there I was, admitting it not only aloud to myself but to witnesses!

As I gave them time to prepare, I remembered another teacher who had once done this tell me, "Watch out! You'll be surprised how powerful the elders are." Powerful indeed, I thought somewhat sarcastically as one of the companionships began. "Hermana," they started, "We thought of one word when we were preparing: Simplify." "Simplify!" I wanted to yell. "Simplify what? Don't you realize I already have? What would you like me to take out of my life? Work? Family? Church? School?"

As though reading my mind, the elders continued...with The Boxes.
"See, there's a lot of stuff going on in your life. And you just have to make boxes. One of the boxes is 'Things I Can Control/Do.' And the other one is for everything else. And you just load that one up with all the other stuff that you can't control and you just take it to God and you say, "Um, God...Here's this box for you. Can you take it? Thanks."

I stared in awe at the elder, his innocent face glowing with perfect faith, his arms upstretched toward heaven, delivering his box. It was so simple.

And so, I have gone through the dumped box/blender mess which apparently is my "female mind" and done a lot of sorting and I've discovered that the box of things I can do isn't quite as big as I thought, and much more managable than I realized. And every now and then, I stand symbolically with my outstreched hands, hefting a much larger box toward the sky, using all the faith I have to simplify. When things get difficult, I picture that elder and say to myself, "What box would this go in?"

"I don't know what it is with boys and boxes," I told my sister that night, "But you know what? I think they might have something."