Clarissa Coralee Johnson

 I follow this cool linguistics guy on social media. Linguistics is seriously so interesting. One thing he said is that names carry cultural meaning and that people can match pictures of strangers to their first names at a rate higher than chance. So, if you saw a picture of a guy named Bob and a guy named Tim, you would have higher than a 50% chance of guessing which is which. This is because names mean something, and those meanings shape who we are and how we behave. That's why Lehi named Laman and Lemuel after the steadfast valley and the constant river (or something like that). Of course, like in their case, it doesn't always really work. Someone named Joy isn't always happy, and not all Karens are, well, Karens. 

But still, names matter. And my name has a lot of meaning, and I'm grateful for who and what I'm named after. 

First, I am Clarissa. I have always loved my first name because it's so pretty and it's unique but not weird. For like a week, when I was young (I don't remember how old), I decided that I wanted to go by "Clara." It didn't catch on, and I soon got over that idea. And now I'm glad because I love "Clarissa."  I am named after Brigham Young's daughter who wrote the book "Brigham Young and Me, Clarissa" that my mom read in her youth. Honestly, I need to read it again because I don't remember most of it. I did recently go on a whole journey with my opinion of Brigham Young while reading "Saints, Volume 2" (it started high, went down, and then ended high again), but that's another story. 

I have known a few other girls named Clarissa. One is a good friend from BYU-Hawaii, but mostly, I have lived my life being THE Clarissa. And I feel like I'm growing into "Clarissa" more than ever. In therapy (another shoutout to therapy), I have learned so much about the importance of self-esteem. And I would think that if I could just figure out how to love myself more, I sure would do it! But it's not just about loving yourself. It's about being yourself, trusting yourself, and guiding your own life. And of course, I can't really do any of that without the Lord. 

We've heard that "the Lord can't drive a parked car," and I've learned a lot about driving my own figurative car with resolute bravery and grateful confidence (at least sometimes). I have a lot of people cheering for me, helping me along, and showing me great examples of how to drive; but ultimately, I'm in my own car, on my own road. The Lord sits in the passenger seat, but I'm the driver. And I'm the only person on earth who gets to spend every minute of their entire life getting to know, taking care of, learning from, and growing with Clarissa. I know her strengths and weaknesses and hopes, fears, and dreams better than anyone, and I'm so glad I get to be with, and actually be, her. 

My beautiful middle name is Coralee. I am an island girl at heart, and I love actual coral. I also love the color coral, you know, like Peeta Mellark. But that's not really why I love my middle name. I love my namesake, Coralee Jaynes Dahl, my wonderful grandma! She is one of the people I admire most in the world. She's endlessly selfless and good. She's humble, and she raised a bunch of the best people. She's smart, detail-oriented, thorough, loving, faithful, talented, and giving. She's also an amazing example of fortitude, patience, and reliance on the Savior during terrible trials and ongoing uncertainty. 

I've just been so eager to get to spend time with her and my grandpa this summer. Here in Nevada, we live just about a perfect walk's distance from their house. Also, I have the best opportunity ever! She is paying me, surely more than I'm worth, to work with her a couple of hours a day, house cleaning and organizing stuff. We have such lovely times dusting off books, vacuuming up flies, and looking through the physical remembrances of a life so well-lived. A life that is still being well-lived. One of the many things we've found is a bunch of organized folders of correspondence written on a typewriter and mailed out to different people and organizations. They were requests for any information available on specific ancestors she was researching. A bunch were dated 1973. I realized that she had had a three-year-old and a one-year-old when she was sending those letters out and doing that important, selfless work. I can't imagine! But that's how she is. Amazing. And I'm so proud to share her pretty name!

Finally, Johnson. Of course, Johnson probably originally came from someone whose dad was named John. But for my purposes, Johnson came from my dear old dad, Robert Lauren Carl Johnson. He's the reason why I have that name. And, even though there were four teachers with that last name at May River High School, two Elder Johnsons and a (Swedish) Elder Jonsson in my mission, and always like 15 different Johnsons on the All-State Choir t-shirts, my dad is one of a kind. He's built different, as they say. I know I said this about my grandma, but he is also one of the most humble people on earth. 

Growing up, I didn't quite realize how good he was or the powerful impact he was having and would continue to have on my life. He doesn't demand attention or praise for the practically never-ending good that he does in all areas of his life. He is caring and positive and gives great advice. He has pure, strong faith in the Lord, and he is constantly trying to do what is right, improve himself, and refine his discipleship. And none of it is about him looking good. He doesn't even worry about that. He just serves and loves and juggles so many important things.

Last week, Cristian was marveling at how much good my dad does and how good he is. My dad sets a high bar for how to be a good man. When I changed my last name back to Johnson after not having it for a few years, it felt so comfortable and nice. Someday, when I change it again, I hope it will be because I am choosing someone of similar caliber to my dad. I also hope that someday, when I stand before the Lord, I will be admitted to the same glorious kingdom as him because he will certainly be there.  He'll have a big, heavenly mansion, but he'll probably be out building or repairing someone else's. I'm so honored to have so many great people and families that make me who I am, and I'm especially grateful to be Robert Johnson's daughter.

So, who am I? I'm me, Clarissa, the original, with divine potential and a unique eternal destiny. I'm also Coralee, just like my wonderful grandma. And I'm a Johnson of the Robert Johnson variety. 

Clarissa Coralee Johnson, child of God, disciple of Christ, and awesome late-night blogger!

What a nice person to be.