Sometimes

There are days when I become exceptionally frustrated with myself. 

Usually it's because I see or hear something tremendously inspirational.
Life-changing, if you will.

Music.

Art.
Dance.
Movies.
Spoken word.
An incredible lecture.
You get my drift.

And I think:
Brooke, you need to do something like that.
Move people.
Influence people.
Inspire people.
Change people.

And it's a staggering, heart-bursting feeling.
And then it makes me so sad, because I think
I am not an actor.
I am not a dancer.
I am not a musician.
I am not a writer.
I am not a teacher.
I am not OUT THERE, in even the slightest way.
And I probably never will be.
I have so many things I want to share with the world.
How am I supposed to make any kind of difference? 

Even just a small dent of good in a world that is so increasingly bad?

Sappy and melodramatic as this sounds, these thoughts truly break my heart.

And then I was hit with a powerful realization this weekend.
I may never be an author.
I may never be a musician.
I may never be a dancer, or an artist, or an actor or a teacher.
I may never be OUT THERE, where I would be in a position to touch a lot of lives.

But in my little life here in Provo Utah, at Brigham Young University, in Southridge Apartments, in the BYU 71st ward,
I can still do a lot of good.
I have a sweet family, that needs me a great deal.
I have dear friends and roommates, who I can love and support and make a difference to.
And most importantly, I have a Savior, who can and will help me bless lives.
Help make me a better tool in His hands.

So as insignificant as I may feel sometimes, I am still capable of A LOT more than I realize.
And just because my life is small compared to the rest of the world, does NOT mean I shouldn't try my best, every day, to make a difference.

Because you never know when a little will actually mean a great, great deal.