Milestones

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.

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.

The Chosen Ones (and How To Be One)

As a writer and a reader, I love the "chosen one" stories as much as the next guy. Harry Potter? The chosen one. Luke Skywalker, Annakin too, chosen. Leven Thumps, chosen. The list goes on.


I think these themes resonate with us because we all secretly wish we were the chosen one, special, set apart, meant for higher things than groveling in the lowlands of oppression.


Over the millennia of recorded history, there has been that same theme, and we find it in the Old Testament. Joseph of Egypt was chosen. So was Moses. Chosen to deliver their people.


But what if they hadn't heeded the call to be chosen? What if they'd ignored it, done nothing, refused to obey the call. Would they still be chosen? Not exactly.


So, am I chosen? Are you? Who is?


I have wondered this from time to time. I think there was some annoyance from the surrounding tribes when the People of Israel showed up saying they were the Chosen People. It might incite animosity--possibly (likely) based on jealousy. Chosen of God. Wow. That's a big claim.


But how does it originate? What about those questions posed above, the ones about those who refuse the call? And if someone is chosen, does that mean they're better/more loved/the favorite child/more important? Does this even mean God could be unfair to some of His children?


I found a scripture that seems to answer that question. It comes from 1 Nephi 17:35 in the Book of Mormon.


 35 Behold, the Lord esteemeth all flesh in one; he that is righteous is favored of God. But behold, this people had rejected every word of God, and they were ripe in iniquity; and the fulness of the wrath of God was upon them; and the Lord did curse the land against them, and bless it unto our fathers; yea, he did curse it against them unto their destruction, and he did bless it unto our fathers unto their obtaining power over it.


Clarity! God loves us all the same. The way to be chosen? It's for US to choose HIM.


That turns the whole concept on its ear for me.


To be chosen, all I need to do is choose His ways, be reliable, be a daughter He can count on to do what He needs done with the capacity He has given me.


What a gracious, fair, praiseworthy God we have.

Unlocking the Fullness of Life

One hot afternoon last fall Gary and I took the kids up the mountain to escape the heat. (Arizona can get pretty hot. Glad we have a mountain to go to every so often for a reprieve.) At the time, I’d been struggling with some worries, mostly financial. I won’t go into it because now those worries seem petty. What I needed was an awakening, and as the kids swung on a rope swing over a ravine and I watched some shiny beetles traverse their own mountains of pine tree roots, it felt like I got an awakening.

 

We were talking about how nice it was to be somewhere on a perfect day. Mid-seventies, no humidity, cool breeze, happy kids, chicken salad sandwiches with “the good mayonnaise” for lunch. It occurred to me that we live a good life—a very good life. Truth be told, nearly all of us live better than any kings or queens in ages gone by have ever lived. After all what do we have?

 

Hot and cold running water – we can take a daily bath not in a metal can

Comfortable beds – without bugs or scratchy straw in them, but Memory Foam (!) instead

Washing machines – no dirty streams to wash clothes in

Air. Conditioning. – (enough said)

Cars – not horses or horse manure for our sole transportation

TV – not some weird court jester or traveling bard. We can change the channel, folks.

Good food we can microwave, and fresh fruits and vegetables all year round

 

The list goes on and on and on. And most people of every economic level in this country enjoy this modern life's bounties to some degree or other. Our lives are good. Really good. Add to this life expectancy, health care, dental care, education, a time of peace rather than war, no invading Mongols, and cold cereal for breakfast and snacks—it’s a recipe for supreme happiness.

 

But it’s human nature to make comparisons, and it seems to me that making comparisons can be the root of unhappiness – meaning, of course, comparisons that put ourselves in the lesser position. There’s always someone with a bigger house, a newer car, a bigger TV screen. And when I focus on something like that, all my blessings diminish in my mind.

 

So as I sat there watching the beetle climb, it hit me: there is only one difference between happiness and unhappiness in life: gratitude. I can focus on what I’ve been blessed with and be happy, or I can focus on what I think I don’t have and be sad. Period.

 

I recently came across this quote (on brainyquote.com, thank you to that site). I don’t know the woman, Melody Beattie, to whom it is attributed. But she said this:

 

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.

It turns what we have into enough, and more.

It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity.

It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.

 

I love this. I needed a big dose of this. And on days when I forget (which I do, dang it, like today, which is why I wrote this today, because those worries are hitting me again as I pay taxes and bills and wonder and worry and stew. I’m like that beetle, struggling over that pine tree’s root over and over), I need a booster shot. And so I’m going to challenge myself today to do what the song says, and “count my many blessings, name them one by one.” I believe it will surprise me what the Lord has done in giving me the fullness of life.