I've come to realize that memories, beautiful as they may be, are the hardest part of progressing. Being home this weekend has been so relaxing and enjoyable, but at the same time it has actually been more interesting for my 'moving-on' process than school has. There are many, still vivid and close, memories from summer within these walls, and it is hard to remember them with such clarity and know that they are all over now. Anyway, currently I am listening to Felix Mendelssohn's "Song without Words," which is a beautiful and lovely piano piece that seems stretch into eternity and provide endless delight for my ears. I think I want to learn it for this semester; but that's a digression.

The title of this piece actually very appropriately fits my life right now. The song is a series of different 'movements,' and each one changes completely from the previous. The first one is full of beautiful melodies, slightly slow, and the second has rapid, repetitious notes in the left-hand, making it more urgent and deliberate. The third one falls back into a sense of calm, bringing back the notes of peace and simplicity. As it continues for many more movements, it follows this pattern of calm and more chaotic, calm, more chaotic.

A song without words is quite ironically a song full of words, because it is full of emotion. I feel like I'm sort of living out this title. Or, at least, I seem to identify with it somewhere within me. There is so much I am feeling, so many revelations, joys, hurts, fears--everything--and it is so much inside that there are no words to fully express it. It is still beautiful though, and still there, and some parts are more confusing, more dark, but overall there is this mass of melodies and harmonies that are all working together for a bigger purpose--the whole song--the whole piece--ultimately, my life; the future--God's purpose and plan.

The memories of laughter and love, even up until 2 weeks ago, are the only significant roadblocks in my path right now. I went through the shock, the tears, the anger, the acceptance. Now it's just those memories--especially as we move into a season that started everything a year ago--and looking back on experiences shared, jokes exchanged, firsts, lasts, everything, that will cause that small ache within my heart to ache just a little bit more. I am not broken though, I have not been overcome. My heart is full from the love of my Savior, the presence of guiding parents, and the joy of many friends from a more-than perfect school. Oh yes, blessings are plentiful, and new memories will be made, and I must believe that they will be just as sweet as the old ones.

Forgiveness, acceptance, and peace are truly gifts from above. Without my Father, I do not know where such concepts would come from, nor how I would be able to learn from them, nor how I would even begin to obtain them.

The wheels in this process are steadily moving, and oh God, I am so thankful for that.