When I was 18, I had a very devoted long-distance boyfriend, and I had a missionary I was in love with. They were not the same person. I was confused and lonely.*
A wise male friend told me that I would know when I saw them both again.
"The one who makes your heart too large is the one you love," he said. (He was right, and I married the missionary.)
Now it seems like my heart gets too large all the time.
Last night S insisted on reading from the Book of Mormon. He read 12 whole verses in 3 Nephi 15. He read about other sheep not of this fold, and one fold and one shepherd.
Abe had to get in on the fun by reading (sort of) one verse.
Watch out for my heart busting out of my chest.
*I was also living in cramped quarters at a fish processing plant in Dillingham, Alaska. Since my roommate's boyfriend was my sexual-harasser boss, my friend C and I moved out of that room into quarters with two very sweet and respectful Catholic boys. The move caused some scandal. Just goes to show, you can't judge by appearances. It was a much healthier environment than the supposedly-four-girl room where pervert boss was actually staying. Just an interesting story unrelated to the subject of this post.