My friend Brad has a fun question he posts every Sunday night on his Facebook page, inviting others to comment with the single best thing they experienced that Sabbath day.
After I added mine, I thought about how it's time for me to focus more on gratitude and looking for the good things in life. 2019 has been a fallin'-down-the-mountain kind of year for me, with several unprecedented and nearly crushing challenges. Some have not ended. Some might not ever abate. It's been hard to see the bright lights through the fog, but thanks to Brad's request, I have two I am focusing on and will share here.
What was your best thing on Sunday?
Sacrament meeting! And it was great for two reasons. One, my son reported his mission to Alabama, and hearing his mature and deep explanation of a doctrinal topic was amazing. He's grown a lot. I love these milestones. They're years of preparation and hundreds of hours of struggle and study in the making.
Second, my daughter substituted as the organist for the congregation. First time ever. I could barely breathe, thinking how terrified I'd be if I were the one on that bench (especially because our building's organ seems haunted and sometimes just blasts loud chords out of nowhere.) But she handled it perfectly, kept the tempo, didn't miss notes. It was a pure thrill for me--and I kept thinking, everyone is singing along, but maybe they don't realize this moment was nine years of lessons and however many hundreds of hours of practice in the making. I loved that milestone as well.
It makes me stop and ponder what moment is yet to come in my other children's futures where I'll think wow, this moment was decades in the making! Also, for myself. What lies ahead, and what am I really working toward? Most of all, I want it to be that moment when I present myself, as well as the record of my life, my love, my relationships, my experiences, my study and struggles and suffering and repentance and dependence on Him at the feet of the Lord. I'm praying He will receive it all and tell me He accepts the growth and progress as my offering.
Showing posts with label Repentance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Repentance. Show all posts
Monday, May 27, 2019
Sunday, July 1, 2018
When I Realized the Commandment to Be Perfect Isn't Actually Kinda Cruel
Most of us who have read the words of the Savior have come to the end of the first chapter containing the Sermon on the Mount and hit those words, "Be ye therefore perfect." And we have stumbled at them.
Perfect? Shah, as if! Most days I can't even keep my dinner from burning, let alone aspire to perfection in all areas. (It's true: I burned dinner four times in the last two weeks. Four. My 13yo has started referring to it as "that nice, smoked flavor.")
The commandment to be perfect looks like a shiny golden coin I can reach out for but never touch. In fact, a lot of days, it is so far away, I don't even bother reaching out for it. And on other days, as it winks in the sun, it feels like it's mocking me. "I exist, but you can never have me."
But this is a terrible attitude! It's a wrong attitude.
Then, a while ago I realized the reason for this commandment, and why it isn't just put there to taunt me with its impossibility.
When Christ spoke, He spoke giving His Father's words. He attributed everything to the Father. He gave us His Father's commandments.
The Father is perfect. The Father wants us as His children to grow to become more like Him, and He knows we aren't yet. But He cannot, in His perfection, give us anything less than perfect. He gives His perfect love. He created a perfect earth. He gave us the gift of His perfect Son.
To give us a commandment to be less than perfect would be...well, it wouldn't be in His nature. His nature is to lift us, and to--line upon line--move us toward His kind of life, which is perfection.
When I noted that there isn't a time limit on that commandment (few of them have a time limit), I realized that this commandment was more eternal in nature. It is more like the shining golden city at the far end of a miles-long long path. But because He has given it to us as something to aim for, we can continue walking toward its beauty, keeping our eyes on it as a distant prize.
But there's also this: because He gave us the commandment to be perfect, that means that it must be attainable. That thought planted a grand, golden hope in my heart. I might not be there now, but if He commanded it, I can someday do it.
But what about in this life? Is there any, any, any way to keep this commandment?
Yes, actually. But obviously not on our own.
Here's an analogy you've probably heard before. We in our imperfections are like a bottomless bank account, with no credit limit, getting further and further into debt with all our mistakes, sins, misdeeds, and wrong thinking. However, the Savior is like a bank account filled to infinity. If we allow Him to take us on as financial partners, then infinity minus anything (even our bad credit no matter how bad) is still infinity.
In that way, we can be perfect. When we allow Christ to be our Savior, we are combining with His perfection. It is the only way in this life we can fulfill that commandment. But it's absolutely doable. It's doable today. The way is simple, and it's a combination of the first two principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ:
1) Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ
2) Repentance
By latching ourselves onto these two principles, we become one with our Lord. We become His. And we are thereby made perfect. Not in all the ultimate "golden city at the end of the road" sense, but we become acceptable to the Father. Because we are His Son's.
If ever we read in the scriptures about how the Savior's advocacy will go at judgment day, it's not going to be, "Allow this child into Thy presence because they are worthy." It's more like, "Allow this child into Thy presence because I am worthy--and they're mine."
I want to be His. I want Him to claim me, both at that day and now.
Perfect? Shah, as if! Most days I can't even keep my dinner from burning, let alone aspire to perfection in all areas. (It's true: I burned dinner four times in the last two weeks. Four. My 13yo has started referring to it as "that nice, smoked flavor.")
The commandment to be perfect looks like a shiny golden coin I can reach out for but never touch. In fact, a lot of days, it is so far away, I don't even bother reaching out for it. And on other days, as it winks in the sun, it feels like it's mocking me. "I exist, but you can never have me."
But this is a terrible attitude! It's a wrong attitude.
Then, a while ago I realized the reason for this commandment, and why it isn't just put there to taunt me with its impossibility.
When Christ spoke, He spoke giving His Father's words. He attributed everything to the Father. He gave us His Father's commandments.
The Father is perfect. The Father wants us as His children to grow to become more like Him, and He knows we aren't yet. But He cannot, in His perfection, give us anything less than perfect. He gives His perfect love. He created a perfect earth. He gave us the gift of His perfect Son.
To give us a commandment to be less than perfect would be...well, it wouldn't be in His nature. His nature is to lift us, and to--line upon line--move us toward His kind of life, which is perfection.
When I noted that there isn't a time limit on that commandment (few of them have a time limit), I realized that this commandment was more eternal in nature. It is more like the shining golden city at the far end of a miles-long long path. But because He has given it to us as something to aim for, we can continue walking toward its beauty, keeping our eyes on it as a distant prize.
But there's also this: because He gave us the commandment to be perfect, that means that it must be attainable. That thought planted a grand, golden hope in my heart. I might not be there now, but if He commanded it, I can someday do it.
But what about in this life? Is there any, any, any way to keep this commandment?
Yes, actually. But obviously not on our own.
Here's an analogy you've probably heard before. We in our imperfections are like a bottomless bank account, with no credit limit, getting further and further into debt with all our mistakes, sins, misdeeds, and wrong thinking. However, the Savior is like a bank account filled to infinity. If we allow Him to take us on as financial partners, then infinity minus anything (even our bad credit no matter how bad) is still infinity.
In that way, we can be perfect. When we allow Christ to be our Savior, we are combining with His perfection. It is the only way in this life we can fulfill that commandment. But it's absolutely doable. It's doable today. The way is simple, and it's a combination of the first two principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ:
1) Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ
2) Repentance
By latching ourselves onto these two principles, we become one with our Lord. We become His. And we are thereby made perfect. Not in all the ultimate "golden city at the end of the road" sense, but we become acceptable to the Father. Because we are His Son's.
If ever we read in the scriptures about how the Savior's advocacy will go at judgment day, it's not going to be, "Allow this child into Thy presence because they are worthy." It's more like, "Allow this child into Thy presence because I am worthy--and they're mine."
I want to be His. I want Him to claim me, both at that day and now.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Don't Pick the Scab
So, I seem to never be able to learn, and I keep making the same mistake over and over.
This week, someone did something that hurt my heart, wounded me deeply. She apologized right away, and I frankly forgave her in my heart. But thennnnnnnnnnnnnn, I repeated the situation to a family member. When I should have just put the whole thing aside, forgotten about it. Repeating the incident completely reopened the wound!
Immediately, I realized what I'd done. Why? Why did I do that to myself? And to the person who hurt me and apologized? It wasn't necessary. The wound could have healed, but I picked the scab.
Luckily, given the opportunity twice over afterward to retell the story, I resisted! The wound has not reopened, and the scab is starting to heal already (thanks not in small part to a wonderful experience listening to General Conference.)
So maybe I am learning something. SLOWLY. Foolishly.
This is the lesson to me: when I'm hurt, it doesn't help to share the pain with someone else. Especially if the incident is no longer an issue.
Let it go, they say. Let it go.
It's time to forgive. It's time to FORGET.
This week, someone did something that hurt my heart, wounded me deeply. She apologized right away, and I frankly forgave her in my heart. But thennnnnnnnnnnnnn, I repeated the situation to a family member. When I should have just put the whole thing aside, forgotten about it. Repeating the incident completely reopened the wound!
Immediately, I realized what I'd done. Why? Why did I do that to myself? And to the person who hurt me and apologized? It wasn't necessary. The wound could have healed, but I picked the scab.
Luckily, given the opportunity twice over afterward to retell the story, I resisted! The wound has not reopened, and the scab is starting to heal already (thanks not in small part to a wonderful experience listening to General Conference.)
So maybe I am learning something. SLOWLY. Foolishly.
This is the lesson to me: when I'm hurt, it doesn't help to share the pain with someone else. Especially if the incident is no longer an issue.
Let it go, they say. Let it go.
It's time to forgive. It's time to FORGET.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
He Only Said It Would Be Worth It
Okay, there are varying opinions on the adage, "I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it," a quote attributed to the Savior. Which I can never find in the scriptures. However, yes, it has given strength to those who are enduring hard times, so I'm not going to say this is saying has no value. Clearly, it does. Even if it's not actually based in scripture.
Meanwhile, there is a different scripture where the prophet Isaiah talks about something being "worth it." And it isn't referring to us. It's referring to the sacrifice that the Savior made for us.
It is in Isaiah 53: 4-6 and verses 10-11.
4 ¶Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
Meanwhile, there is a different scripture where the prophet Isaiah talks about something being "worth it." And it isn't referring to us. It's referring to the sacrifice that the Savior made for us.
It is in Isaiah 53: 4-6 and verses 10-11.
4 ¶Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.
...
10 ¶Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
In the past I have focused on the pain, the grief, the affliction that the Savior endured. For me. And I have felt terrible about it. As I should. And grateful, so deeply grateful that He would love me enough and be devoted to the Father enough to make this infinite sacrifice.
However, on a recent reading of these verses, I found myself focusing on the second part: the part where He says that it pleased Him.
What? It pleased Him? This just stops me in my tracks. But read on. When I make His soul an offering for my sin...He shall see his seed.
In other words, when I actually make His sacrifice efficacious by repenting, by taking the proffered gift of forgiveness, of being made pure and holy once again by His divine power, then He shall see the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied.
So instead of always thinking how sad it is that I've made things worse for the Savior by my bad behavior, I should realize, the Atonement is done. It is, as He said, finished. And now, MY work is to make it WORTH IT for Him by ACCEPTING His unspeakably sacred and generous and soul-wrenching gift... by repenting.
For that is what pleases the Lord.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
How Can I Forgive When I'm Still Being Harmed? (The Opposite of Forgive and Forget)
You've read it a hundred times. We have to forgive others if we want to be forgiven of our sins. We know it's true. We believe that with all our hearts. And we want to obey that--really ache to forgive our oppressor--in our desire to approach the Savior.
However, what do we do when that oppression is still going on full force?
This is the conundrum I have been grappling with over the past few months. Years, actually. But it has hit a crescendo in recent days. I want to forgive, I want to move on, I want to keep the commandment to not hold a grudge against my brother. But the damage hasn't ended.
Usually when I think about forgiving someone, I think about a past wrong, something that has ended and I have to reflect on and get over.
But that isn't always the situation. Sometimes it's ongoing. Sometimes there is nothing we can do to escape the situation, and yet, we need the peace of not being angry or upset or even annoyed by the person inflicting the damage.
This is my problem! This is what I'm dealing with! And how do I forgive?
Well, I went to the scriptures, and at first glance, they just made me feel WORSE.
3 Nephi 12: 23-24
23 Therefore, if ye shall come unto me, or shall desire to come unto me, and rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee—
Ugh. Worthless. That's how I felt. And despite my efforts, the ongoing nature of the meanness made it hard to let go and forgive. Just when I thought I had it conquered, boom. Something new showed up, and I was upset all over again.
Discouraging.
Because I totally FORGOT about it.
Huh.
So, after a few days of ruminating on this concept, I realized that since I was going to be stuck in the rotten situation for some time left to come, I started to pray instead to be able to just FORGET.
I forget to buy light bulbs at the store. I forget to pick up my son from track practice. I forget that my daughter needs a new piano book. I forget where I put my shoes, what I was going into the pantry for, that I really need to have laundry done for tomorrow. I'm an EXPERT at FORGET. I begged the Lord to help me forget.
And then, He did. In his divine goodness, He sent me a dozen slap-me-down trials (mentioned in previous posts) that completely distracted me from the irritation inflicted on me by this person. He sent me hard things. He sent me a bunch of people to serve. He sent me an answer to my many prayers to find someone who would listen to the missionaries, so that I'd be busy a couple of days a week helping her prepare for baptism (which she was and did and yay!) He sent me blessings and a desire to finish some goals, like publishing and promoting a book. He sent me a healing of my long-defunct knee and a renewed ability to run several miles in a row.
Because either way, the goal of forgiveness is accomplished.
However, what do we do when that oppression is still going on full force?
This is the conundrum I have been grappling with over the past few months. Years, actually. But it has hit a crescendo in recent days. I want to forgive, I want to move on, I want to keep the commandment to not hold a grudge against my brother. But the damage hasn't ended.
Usually when I think about forgiving someone, I think about a past wrong, something that has ended and I have to reflect on and get over.
But that isn't always the situation. Sometimes it's ongoing. Sometimes there is nothing we can do to escape the situation, and yet, we need the peace of not being angry or upset or even annoyed by the person inflicting the damage.
This is my problem! This is what I'm dealing with! And how do I forgive?
Well, I went to the scriptures, and at first glance, they just made me feel WORSE.
3 Nephi 12: 23-24
23 Therefore, if ye shall come unto me, or shall desire to come unto me, and rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee—
24 Go thy way unto thy brother, and first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come unto me with full purpose of heart, and I will receive you.
Yep, I can't even really pray for help if I'm holding this bad feeling in my heart. Right? I'm harboring anger and a grudge, so I'm not worthy to even come to Him. Right? Well, that's how I took it the first hundred times I read it.
Ugh. Worthless. That's how I felt. And despite my efforts, the ongoing nature of the meanness made it hard to let go and forgive. Just when I thought I had it conquered, boom. Something new showed up, and I was upset all over again.
Discouraging.
However, this time when I read it, I noticed something brand new. It was the phrase "if ye...rememberest."
That phrase struck like a gong in my heart.
Sure, I can't change the behavior. I can't change the situation or the circumstance. I can't change the other person.
But I can forget.
Because it sounds like as long as I FORGET that the "aught against me" exists, I don't have to worry about it.
If I FORGET that the bad stuff is happening, then I actually don't really have to figure out how to forgive the person.
If I FORGET that the bad stuff is happening, then I actually don't really have to figure out how to forgive the person.
Because I totally FORGOT about it.
Huh.
So, after a few days of ruminating on this concept, I realized that since I was going to be stuck in the rotten situation for some time left to come, I started to pray instead to be able to just FORGET.
I mean, I forget absolutely EVERYTHING else.
I forget to buy light bulbs at the store. I forget to pick up my son from track practice. I forget that my daughter needs a new piano book. I forget where I put my shoes, what I was going into the pantry for, that I really need to have laundry done for tomorrow. I'm an EXPERT at FORGET. I begged the Lord to help me forget.
And then, He did. In his divine goodness, He sent me a dozen slap-me-down trials (mentioned in previous posts) that completely distracted me from the irritation inflicted on me by this person. He sent me hard things. He sent me a bunch of people to serve. He sent me an answer to my many prayers to find someone who would listen to the missionaries, so that I'd be busy a couple of days a week helping her prepare for baptism (which she was and did and yay!) He sent me blessings and a desire to finish some goals, like publishing and promoting a book. He sent me a healing of my long-defunct knee and a renewed ability to run several miles in a row.
And...I FORGOT.
At least for a while during those days. Yes, there were a couple of flare-ups. There were a couple of times where I felt like those disciples who were trying to cast out the evil spirit, and the Savior told them, "However, this kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting." So I prayed. And fasted.
And I was able to forget. Again.
And even though stuff kept happening, and I'd remember the pain--soon, the Lord would help me refocus on the other issues/blessings/duties/trials of my life, so I could forget. Again.
This has all been happening over the past several months. I'm hoping that sometime circumstances will fully change, that the person will just move away or evaporate from my life. It hasn't happened yet. I'm still in the trenches. And there are good moments and bad. When the bad stuff hits, sometimes I pray for help just to forget for five minutes. And He helps me--and that five minutes stretches much longer. God is good.
This has all been happening over the past several months. I'm hoping that sometime circumstances will fully change, that the person will just move away or evaporate from my life. It hasn't happened yet. I'm still in the trenches. And there are good moments and bad. When the bad stuff hits, sometimes I pray for help just to forget for five minutes. And He helps me--and that five minutes stretches much longer. God is good.
It's completely backward from the old adage FORGIVE AND FORGET. Sometimes, frankly, that feels impossible. Instead, maybe it's more doable to FORGET AND FORGIVE.
Because either way, the goal of forgiveness is accomplished.
And forgetting can sometimes be the easiest thing in the world.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Like a Cheese Grater for the Foot...Stony vs. Fleshy
Last week I started running again after a five month hiatus to let my owie knee rest. It still sounds like a box of Tic Tacs when I walk down a staircase, but it doesn't hurt anymore, which means I started back out there. We'll see how long it lasts.
One of the unexpected blessings of the hiatus was the calluses on my feet healed up. When I checked them out today, for the first time in a few years, they were more like human flesh than like the pumice I use on them. My pumice stone is part of a pedicure paddle, and on the other side of it is a thing that's remarkably like the cheese grater / lemon zester tool I use in my kitchen. Except I use it on the bottoms of my feet. And often the calluses are so thick it doesn't even hurt.
So, does this have a scriptural point? Why, yes. It does. Because I have still been reading in the book of Ezekiel, from Chapter 11:
I keep thinking of this phrase, "stony heart."
When we sin, we feel bad. It hurts us when our hearts are soft because we're each born with a conscience, given to us by our Heavenly Father. That's like a central nervous system for our soul.
It's like when we accidentally touch a hot stove. The heat would damage us, and the pain tells us to stop.
So, in a strange way, the pain is a good thing. A warning system.
Likewise, our spirits can harden. If we ignore the pain of sin long enough, it can make our hearts like Ezekiel said: stony.
Anyway, I was thinking about it. When we do stuff we shouldn't, and it hurts, we basically have two options to help us stop feeling sad/bad about it. 1) We can repent. 2) We can keep sinning and develop a spiritual callus (i.e., "harden our hearts.")
It can harden to the point that it doesn't even hurt when we scrape a cheese grater over it. We ignore it, until we barely notice we're constantly walking around both harmed and callused.
Ezekiel says when Israel is gathered, they will put aside their "detestable things," and when they come to Christ, He will give them a heart of flesh and take away their stony heart.
Then they can walk in His statutes and ordinances (like taking the sacrament) and be His people and He is their God.
And another important point is we don't have to make the exchange. I don't have the skill to turn rocks to flesh. But He does. He turned water into wine. He can and will turn stone into softness.
All we have to do is put aside our detestable things and come to Him.
And so, according to Ezekiel, I need to get off my stony, callused feet and onto the flesh of my knees.
One of the unexpected blessings of the hiatus was the calluses on my feet healed up. When I checked them out today, for the first time in a few years, they were more like human flesh than like the pumice I use on them. My pumice stone is part of a pedicure paddle, and on the other side of it is a thing that's remarkably like the cheese grater / lemon zester tool I use in my kitchen. Except I use it on the bottoms of my feet. And often the calluses are so thick it doesn't even hurt.
So, does this have a scriptural point? Why, yes. It does. Because I have still been reading in the book of Ezekiel, from Chapter 11:
18 And they shall come thither, and they shall take away all the detestable things thereof and all the abominations thereof from thence.
19 And I will agive them one bheart, and I will put a cnew dspirit within you; and I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them an eheart of flesh:
20 That they may awalk in my statutes, and keep mine bordinances, and do them: and they shall be my cpeople, and I will be their God.
I keep thinking of this phrase, "stony heart."
When we sin, we feel bad. It hurts us when our hearts are soft because we're each born with a conscience, given to us by our Heavenly Father. That's like a central nervous system for our soul.
It's like when we accidentally touch a hot stove. The heat would damage us, and the pain tells us to stop.
So, in a strange way, the pain is a good thing. A warning system.
However, if we repeatedly burn our hand, after a while it gets deadened and we can't feel it as much.
That, or in the case of a callused-over blister, our flesh actually hardens.
Likewise, our spirits can harden. If we ignore the pain of sin long enough, it can make our hearts like Ezekiel said: stony.
Anyway, I was thinking about it. When we do stuff we shouldn't, and it hurts, we basically have two options to help us stop feeling sad/bad about it. 1) We can repent. 2) We can keep sinning and develop a spiritual callus (i.e., "harden our hearts.")
It can harden to the point that it doesn't even hurt when we scrape a cheese grater over it. We ignore it, until we barely notice we're constantly walking around both harmed and callused.
Ezekiel says when Israel is gathered, they will put aside their "detestable things," and when they come to Christ, He will give them a heart of flesh and take away their stony heart.
Then they can walk in His statutes and ordinances (like taking the sacrament) and be His people and He is their God.
The Lord wants soft hearts. He is a God of soft hearts.
And another important point is we don't have to make the exchange. I don't have the skill to turn rocks to flesh. But He does. He turned water into wine. He can and will turn stone into softness.
All we have to do is put aside our detestable things and come to Him.
And so, according to Ezekiel, I need to get off my stony, callused feet and onto the flesh of my knees.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
What's the Most Important Choice We'll Ever Make?
I've been thinking about a friend of mine. She's lived a really exemplary life, and made all the good choices. She's been a good person, gone to church, been a good student, a good daughter and friend, and a good example for everyone in her family. I admire her to the moon!
But lately, she's been going through a rough patch. We all do, from time to time, for various reasons. I don't know all her situation, but I do know that whatever it is, it's making her pull away from the good stuff she's done in the past.
Years ago I went through something similar. I didn't go completely off the rails or anything, but I did make some choices that weren't helping me progress. At all. At least not toward the destination I ultimately wanted to end up in.
One day I was reading through Ezekiel and found this passage. It's a bit long -- apologies -- and it repeats, so if you just read the first two groups of verses, you'll get the idea. It's from chapter 18.
21 But if the wicked will aturn from all his sins that he hath committed, and keep all my statutes, and do that which is lawful and right, he shall surely live, he shall not die.
22 All his atransgressions that he hath committed, they shall not be mentioned unto him: in his righteousness that he hath done he shall live.
*
24 ¶But when the arighteous bturneth away from his crighteousness, and committeth iniquity, and doeth according to all the abominations that the wicked man doeth, shall he live? All his righteousness that he hath done shall not be mentioned: in his trespass that he hath trespassed, and in his dsin that he hath sinned, in them shall he die.
*
26 When a righteous man aturneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and bdieth in them; for his iniquity that he hath done shall he die.
27 Again, when the wicked man aturneth away from his wickedness that he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive.
28 Because he considereth, and turneth away from all his transgressions that he hath committed, he shall surely live, he shall not die.
I remember being in the thick of making my bad choices and thinking, "I've lived a good life up to now. I've always pretty much done all the stuff I should: go to church, serve other people, be nice, read the scriptures," and so on. I'd been a missionary. I'd been a good daughter. I was going to be fine. My past goodness would cancel out the rotten choices.
But then, that scripture was a slap in the face!
What it said to me was that it didn't matter one smidge what I'd done in the past. If a good person turns from her righteousness and does bad stuff, she's not a good person anymore. You're only the person you are in the moment.
On the other hand, for a person like me who needed to change, it also didn't matter what I'd done in the past. If I turned away from what I'd been doing wrong, through the power of God, I could once again be a righteous person because of His goodness and forgiveness when I reconciled my life with His laws and was washed clean by His grace.
So as much as it hurt to read this, it also caused me to be humble, so that I could get to a place where I could really repent.
Since then I've thought a thousand times: it doesn't really matter what our past is -- righteous or wicked, lukewarm or lazy. It doesn't matter if we've gone to church or been a jerk all our lives up to this point. If we turn away from what we have done, we become -- and are -- what we choose at this moment.
In other words, the most important choice we will make in life is our next choice.
It's a perfect blend of fear and hope, this principle. I find myself filled with fear when I am not doing what's right. And I find myself filled with hope when I remember that Christ's great love for us makes the past irrelevant. He can heal us. He can heal me. He has healed me.
When I read this passage of scripture, humbled myself, and came to Him with my burdens and broken self, He fixed me up, made me whole again. I found I never, ever wanted to leave His fold. His grace is magnificent!
If only everyone broken could feel this love -- including my dear friend whose chosen path is looking rocky right now. It's ready, it's available. It can be all of ours now, from this very minute, if we choose Him in our next choice.
Monday, April 7, 2014
A Not-Exactly-Magic Eraser for Life
Something about our hot water heater is broken. This is nothing shocking. There's generally something broken when you have a house. Our roof shingles have been inadequate for about six years, and we need to replace them. Luckily, it's been a severe drought and since it never, ever rains, we just haven't needed shingles. I am going to look on the bright side of the drought.
Still, this hot water heater thing really puzzles me. At random times, maybe about once a month, I will run water in the tub, and instead of clear water coming out of the faucet, the water is laced with black, greasy sludge. I do nothing different than any other morning of life, it just suddenly happens.
Truthfully, for a long time I blamed my husband. It's almost like that horrible story where the cranky wife berated her husband daily for getting bits of water and toothpaste splashed around the sink. She really laid it on thick. Then, after he died unexpectedly, she went to clean the sink and realized it was just as splashed as when he'd been alive.
Of course, I was far more justified in my conclusions, since there would be a black ring around the tub, and since I'm a showerer and he's a bather, this had to be his fault. Of course, he wasn't a diesel mechanic or a dock worker, so it was hard to imagine how he could be covered with black sludge enough to leave such a residue. It wasn't until it had been going on for about a year and I'd been secretly grousing at him for it (not aloud, I'd read the sink-splash story one too many times to fall into that trap) that one day I was bathing my youngest daughter and I saw the sludge for myself.
I apologized. He accepted.
But we still had the ring around the tub. Ugh. I hate scrubbing the tub. Am I alone in this?
Luckily, Mr. Clean came to the rescue, or Dow Chemical or whichever genius invented Magic Eraser. That thing is truly incredible. It's just a white sponge thing that you get wet, which activates some kind of acid that is in the sponge and with much less elbow grease than using Comet or Ajax makes that porcelain sparkle again.
It's going to sound cheesy, but it has changed my life.
It's time for me to scrub the tub again, and I've been postponing it, but when I saw it this afternoon I suddenly thought about how much happier I am when it's clean. A clean bathroom is a gift I give myself. Then I thought about this whole tub thing in a different light, and realized it kind of had a spiritual application.
Sometimes my life just gets sludge in it. I make mistakes. It happens at random times when I'm least expecting it. I mean, I generally am trying to have a clean life. But sludge happens. I get angry or weak or lazy, and suddenly next thing I know, there's a black greasy film over my world. Sometimes it disgusts me so much that I postpone cleaning it because I'm afraid of the work it will take to get rid of it or because I want to blame someone else for it and why doesn't someone else come and fix it because surely this couldn't be my fault.
And I guess the truth is, I can't actually fix it. All the effort I'd give would be less than Ajax or Comet or even just a well placed thumbnail scrubbing it away. It would never get truly clean. What I need is a spiritual Magic Eraser--and it comes not by magic but still by power, by the great and infinite power of the One who can truly clean me up, make me whole, make my life sparkly once again, only the Savior Jesus Christ. It's through the power of His love that all that yuckiness can be eradicated from my soul. And it can make me happy. It's a gift He gives me, and my choosing Him and to come to Him is the gift I give myself.
And I mean this with all my heart: He has changed my life.
Still, this hot water heater thing really puzzles me. At random times, maybe about once a month, I will run water in the tub, and instead of clear water coming out of the faucet, the water is laced with black, greasy sludge. I do nothing different than any other morning of life, it just suddenly happens.
Truthfully, for a long time I blamed my husband. It's almost like that horrible story where the cranky wife berated her husband daily for getting bits of water and toothpaste splashed around the sink. She really laid it on thick. Then, after he died unexpectedly, she went to clean the sink and realized it was just as splashed as when he'd been alive.
Of course, I was far more justified in my conclusions, since there would be a black ring around the tub, and since I'm a showerer and he's a bather, this had to be his fault. Of course, he wasn't a diesel mechanic or a dock worker, so it was hard to imagine how he could be covered with black sludge enough to leave such a residue. It wasn't until it had been going on for about a year and I'd been secretly grousing at him for it (not aloud, I'd read the sink-splash story one too many times to fall into that trap) that one day I was bathing my youngest daughter and I saw the sludge for myself.
I apologized. He accepted.
But we still had the ring around the tub. Ugh. I hate scrubbing the tub. Am I alone in this?
Luckily, Mr. Clean came to the rescue, or Dow Chemical or whichever genius invented Magic Eraser. That thing is truly incredible. It's just a white sponge thing that you get wet, which activates some kind of acid that is in the sponge and with much less elbow grease than using Comet or Ajax makes that porcelain sparkle again.
It's going to sound cheesy, but it has changed my life.
It's time for me to scrub the tub again, and I've been postponing it, but when I saw it this afternoon I suddenly thought about how much happier I am when it's clean. A clean bathroom is a gift I give myself. Then I thought about this whole tub thing in a different light, and realized it kind of had a spiritual application.
Sometimes my life just gets sludge in it. I make mistakes. It happens at random times when I'm least expecting it. I mean, I generally am trying to have a clean life. But sludge happens. I get angry or weak or lazy, and suddenly next thing I know, there's a black greasy film over my world. Sometimes it disgusts me so much that I postpone cleaning it because I'm afraid of the work it will take to get rid of it or because I want to blame someone else for it and why doesn't someone else come and fix it because surely this couldn't be my fault.
And I guess the truth is, I can't actually fix it. All the effort I'd give would be less than Ajax or Comet or even just a well placed thumbnail scrubbing it away. It would never get truly clean. What I need is a spiritual Magic Eraser--and it comes not by magic but still by power, by the great and infinite power of the One who can truly clean me up, make me whole, make my life sparkly once again, only the Savior Jesus Christ. It's through the power of His love that all that yuckiness can be eradicated from my soul. And it can make me happy. It's a gift He gives me, and my choosing Him and to come to Him is the gift I give myself.
And I mean this with all my heart: He has changed my life.
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