Theories

I'm sure Webster's Dictionary has some lengthy, dry definition for 'Theory', but I'm not much interested in it. For my objective something the level of a 4th grader will suffice. Don't cite me on it, but I'd define a theory as a plausible explanation for why things happen.

The first of my theories was really a miracle. Austin West, my high school hero, spoke in his home ward today, addressing the congregation in what was his missionary homecoming address. It's been just over a year now since he returned from Indiana and was honorably released as a full-time missionary. Austin and myself share similar circumstances. We share whatever composition of genetics, environment, and neuro-chemistry that constitute psychological ailment. I don't intend to compare any of his experiences to mine because I simply have hardly an idea of their nature, but the thought that I am not alone in seemingly unconquerable barriers is sweetly hopeful.

My first theory is that in any situation we are not the first to walk that path. Perhaps the road might not be lighted by a childhood friend, cross-country captain, and medically-released missionary, but without question there is always Someone. And because of that Someone, we are assured that we are never alone.

Next, almost one year prior, I was running on the American Fork High School's track. The Utah state cross-country championship crept into vision, and I wasn't about to let it out of sight without my fair chance of participation. Thousands of miles and four years of painful dedication amounted to one event of my senior year. I crossed the finish line ninth man on our team prior to region. The race following would determine which seven boys would represent our team at State.

The last workout before the Region 4 Championships was 600m repeats on the track. Toes touched the line and in a flurry of feet we were off. Rounding the first corner there was a stumble of three or four boys, and in an attempt to avoid collision my right ankle was wrenched from under me. Collapsing in pain my years of dreams were surrendered. There would be no likelihood of qualification with an ankle the size of cantaloupe. Though seeing no way to stand, immediately at my side stood Sam Everett and Connor Hoopes, and with their help I rose up. Years of wishing were devastated, but in hindsight, not without reason.

I could ramble about my theories for days, but as closure I believe that significant events don't happen without more significant purposes. Maybe my cross-country season was ruined. Maybe my mission was revised. Maybe there exists no parallel between the two. But maybe what awaits me is a grand future.

So theories or not, my fingers are crossed.

~Benson

Austin West- someone should write a book about this guy.