Sleeping Through The Garden

As I have been preparing my heart for Christmas, I have been reading several different scenes from the life of our Lord. One is the Garden of Gethsemane. I read and reread His heavy experience there, trying to comprehend, even a tiny degree, what sacrifice was made there on my behalf.


The thing that struck me this time reading was how alone the Savior was. After the apostles partook of the Last Supper, Jesus invited just Peter, James and John to go with Him on this difficult trek into the deepest abyss of the soul, a place only a God could go and survive. To take on Him all our sins, weaknesses, infirmities, mistakes, all at once, it's just incomprehensible.


But of his companions He asked one thing: stay awake.


And they couldn't.


We've all been there--so tired we simply cannot keep our eyes open, maybe even despite danger. Like driving late at night after a long day. I remember one time I nearly wrecked my car with all my little children inside. The only thing that saved me was calling my husband and having him talk me home, the last ten minutes of the drive. I needed him. I needed his help to get through.


The Savior, all He asked was to have a few friends there to support Him.


And they could not watch one hour.


It's disheartening.


And yet, isn't it a type of the human condition? How "awake" are we on a regular basis to the sacrifice that has been made by our God for us? What is my alertness level to the massive debt of gratitude and honor and fealty I owe to Him who stood between me and Justice, which gapes wide to claim my eternal soul, unless I repent and cast myself at His feet?


Sadly, I know there are days when most of us, self included, hardly give it a passing thought.


Sleeping through it. That's all I do from time to time.


And what He asks is that I stay awake. Be aware of His divine suffering on my behalf.
I love Him. This Christmas season is helping me to wake up. I hope I can stay awake in days and months and years to come.

Getting Off Nephi's Path

This morning I was studying the scriptures about happiness, and I read 1 Nephi 8:10. “And it came to pass that I beheld a tree, whose fruit was desirable to make one happy.”

 

Now, we all know Nephi sees the interpretation of his father’s dream and that the fruit of that tree is the Love of God. I started to think about this happiness, this fruit, this love.

 

My husband has a little orchard. It’s a baby orchard, and this is the first year we will have any fruit. But we do! And there are some fruits out there right now, just waiting to be picked. Pomegranates, apples, and such.

 

It occurred to me that I ought to think of Lehi’s dream fruit like that—just there, waiting. I can go pick it or not. But it’s ready anytime I want it. It won’t pick itself. And it won’t force itself to be tasted, but it’s ready. It’s available. It’s delicious.

 

All my life as I’ve studied Lehi’s vision, I’ve thought of those different groups on the pathway to the Tree of Life. Many are “pressing forward.” And it seems like it’s taking them a lot of effort to cling to that rod. And then, of course, there are groups that don’t make it.

 

When I put myself into this vision, I’d always ask, “Am I clinging to the rod? Am I on that path?” or various questions about whether I was dipping my toe in the filthy water or getting blinded by the mists or heeding the sneers of the people in the great and spacious building across the way. Oh, how I hoped I was on that path! I just desperately wanted to move toward that love.

 

Someday, I thought. Someday!

 

However, when I looked again, I realized Lehi called to his family, and Sariah and Nephi and Sam came immediately. They ate right away. There was no implication that the iron rod that led to the tree was a thousand miles long, a lifetime long.

 

This morning, it occurred to me. I’m not on that path.

 

I’m already at the tree. I have TASTED that fruit! In fact, I’ve been at the tree for a LONG time. I’ve been tasting the fruit, sharing it with my family, trying to share it with the people over whom I have stewardship in church callings and things. Yeah, I’m still clinging to the iron rod of God’s word—trying to, at least. And there are still dangers even once you reach the tree. We just need to keep eating it, and let it, as Alma taught in Alma 32, “be a tree springing up unto everlasting life.”

 

Anyway, maybe my problem with hesitation to share the gospel, to holler out to others to come and taste the fruit is this mental image of where I placed myself: on the path. But mentally I need to get off the path. Recognize that I’m at the tree, and we can all be—right away.

 

It’s time to go invite my dear ones to come and taste.

 

Why God Will ALWAYS Give Us More Than We Can Handle -- According to a 16 Year Old

I love my current assignment in church. I get to work with the young women, and they are a constant source of entertainment, information, and inspiration. Okay, and quite often stress, let's be honest. But I'm focusing on the awesomeness--because there's really a lot of that. Especially what happened on Sunday.


So. On Sunday we were having a lesson on patience during our class. And this new girl, who is a super attractive 16 year old who maybe if you saw her you'd think she didn't have a care in the world. (Which is what we do as humans. Especially female humans. We think attractive people have no problems.)


But she said, "I've had hard things in my life. But the thing I hate is when someone says, 'God will never give you more than you can handle. Because that is just untrue. Completely wrong.'"


And in my head I'm thinking of the scripture in Timothy that says we will never be tempted beyond what we can bear and thinking that in my mind maybe I often confuse those two concepts. Tempted beyond what we can handle isn't the same as tried beyond what we can handle.


So, Miss Gorgeous went on. "Of course God gives us more than we can handle. If we never got more than we could handle, we'd never grow. We'd just get stuff we could handle and move on. No biggie. The thing to remember is that He will never give us more than HE can handle. And then we depend on Him to carry us through it, and then, with His help, we can handle it."


I love that.
So true.


From the mouths of hot babes.

A Commandment I COMPLETELY Missed the Memo On

Yesterday the most fabulous thing happened.

For the past six or eight months, I’ve had a specific worry that has been weighing on my mind and heart. It was a situation that could very much affect my family, and that could potentially cause serious problems.

I’ve spent hours and hours on my knees trying to figure out solutions, begging for insight, making plans to combat this problem.

Finally, about two months ago, I just gave it to God. I’d done everything I could, physically, spiritually, emotionally to make this right. At that point, I just put it in the Lord’s hands, asking him to let my soul rest, to let the right thing work out. If the trial had to be, it had to be, and I would just trust Him to carry us through. It had to be enough. And I placed my faith in Him, that he would bless and protect us.

Along the way, there were little blips of help—things that reminded me He was aware of me, that He cared, and that He was still watching, even though there was no real solution as of yet. Those gave me courage and bolstered my faith.

Yesterday, the situation finally resolved. At last! And the news was good! And the threat has passed, and God is just so good to me. I feel everything lighter as the storm clouds pass away over the horizon. Last night, as I climbed into bed, I told my husband I was afraid I was a little like Memory Foam. That after a long time of pressure, I might not spring back immediately. There might be a bit of time to puff back out to my real shape, but that I could already feel the expansion as the pressure had lifted. Hallelujah.

This morning, as I studied the scriptures, I was pondering on the word “Thanks.” Of course! I looked it up in the topical guide and began going through the scriptures one by one, until one hit me—hard. And it wasn’t the thanks portion of it.

2 Nephi 9:52

Behold, my beloved brethren, remember the words of your God; pray unto him continually by day, and give thanks unto his holy name by night. Let your hearts rejoice.

The remember and the prayer and the thanks parts, I expected. However, it was the verb that starts the final phrase that arrested me.

 

Let your hearts rejoice.

 

Now, I’ve seen that phrase a lot of times in the scriptures. We all have, I know. It’s just there, all the time. For me it almost blends into the background. But…

Today I realized it starts with “let.” And that it can have a couple of meanings.
The first meaning that hit me was taking the word “let” in the meaning “allow.” I need to allow my heart to rejoice.

How many times do good things come to me, and I say, “Wow! That’s great. Now I can really focus on this other problem or weakness.” Or how many times do I think, “Whew. That’s nice. And now if I just didn’t have this other thing, I’d be almost there.”

Ugh! That’s starting to rejoice… and then instantly pulling back. It’s stopping myself from feeling the full joy of the moment, of the blessing.

The second thing I noticed about “let” was that it makes the whole sentence in command form. Let your hearts rejoice. It’s a command. It’s important enough for us to rejoice that the Lord’s words are not a suggestion, “Maybe you should rejoice.” Or “Think about rejoicing, but then move on pretty quick to trying to improve yourself in other ways.” Nope. It’s a command to take the time to rejoice. To fully feel the joy of the blessing He has afforded us.

And so, with that little slap in the face, er, reminder, I am just going to say that today, I am SO HAPPY! I will take the time to fully rejoice, to fully feel the gratitude and goodness of my God, of His love, of His blessing and care and mercy.

And then I am going to think about the other ways, not just this specific thing He’s given me, but the other things He blesses me with so much that they too kind of fade into the background, and LET myself feel joy for them too.

Because “Men are that they might have joy.”

I am going to LET myself have joy today.

The Need to Ponder--And What We Might Be Missing Without It

I was thinking about how connected everyone seems to the Internet these days. It's almost like an IV of information that no one can get off. I know I'm on here quite a few hours a day doing stuff like social networking and research for my writing. When you think about it, it's a little disturbing how much like creepy, mind-numbed robots we must all look from the outside.


There is a danger in being too connected all the time, though. Several dangers, I'm sure, like disconnection from *real* social interaction, that face-to-face time with friends and loved ones; or lack of physical exercise; or just plain idleness and waste of time.


This morning I was thinking about how even during church meetings I see people ignoring the message or the lesson and messing around on their phones. This includes adults and kids. It's almost weird. Of course, when *I* need to look something up, it's "important" that I know it right then... Ugh. I'm such a hypocrite!


Anyway, the danger that came to my mind this morning of always being hooked up to a constant feeding tube of information is our lack of time to ponder. Focused thinking, that's pondering, right? Sometimes I do my best pondering with a pen in one hand and a little notebook in the other, and sometimes it's while I'm driving alone with the radio off. Sometimes I ponder best while I'm on a walk at sunrise watching the full moon set. When do you ponder?


But my pondering time gets cut short throughout the day. Back in times gone by, people did a lot more physical labor than we do now, in general. Work in the fields, work hunting animals, work in the garden, work at the river washing laundry on a rock. It was solitary a lot of times, and there were no radios or audiobooks or music downloads to keep the mind occupied.


There was time to ponder. Plenty of it.


But do we have that? What's preventing us from it? In my case, it's being online too much. Guilty as charged!


But so what? Do we need it? Really?


I submit that we might be missing some important stuff by cutting out that important part of our lives.


A story from the Book of Mormon comes to mind. It's right at the beginning of the first book, First Nephi. Nephi's dad, Lehi, has had this vision about a tree, and Nephi wants to know what it means. All the family does (and their dad apparently doesn't provide any kind of explanation, so they're on their own.) Here's what Nephi says in 1 Nephi 11:1.


1 For it came to pass after I had desired to know the things that my father had seen, and believing that the Lord was able to make them known unto me, as I sat pondering in mine heart I was caught away in the Spirit of the Lord, yea, into an exceedingly high mountain, which I never had before seen, and upon which I never had before set my foot.


There are three things in this that Nephi says he does, and then, what unfolds to him is this miraculous vision (which he shares over several chapters following) and great understanding of his own life, of his family's future, of his posterity--and beyond. It's epic in scope, and he even sees our day. It's amazing.


What three things?
1) He desires to know and understand. He wants it.
2) He believes the Lord is able to make it known unto him.
3) He sits pondering it in his heart (which I assume includes some prayerful asking, but maybe not. It might have just been a think-a-thon.)


The result of his pondering is astounding. He not only sees the things his father saw, he gets to ask the meaning of them. And then he writes them down and tells us about it. It's so amazing. I love it.
And it's all because he did those three things.


Later on, after he's detailed it all, he runs into his brothers, and they're being surly. He asks them what their problem is, and they're arguing about what their father said he saw. Nephi asks a pointed question: Well, guys, have you asked the Lord about it? They answer, Nope. The Lord wouldn't tell us anyway.


The brothers are missing parts 2 and 3 in the formula. They didn't believe God would answer, nor did they bother to ask. Was Nephi more special and favorite and chosen than his brothers? Yes, but only because HE chose to put himself in that position. The Lord would have answered the brothers just as he did Nephi, if they'd believed and asked and pondered. I'm sure of it.


And so, if we have questions, and if we follow Nephi's formula, I'm convinced the answers are there for us. We might not get to see the whole future of our people laid out for us, but we will be able to figure out answers for our own families and children. We will be able to understand how to solve the daily problems, no matter how small or large, that perplex us. But not if we don't take time to ponder. If we are so constantly mind-occupied by things that distract us and occupy us.


Of course, being busy defines daily life. It might be impossible to carve out a pondering time during the day. But maybe I need to get up earlier or simply choose a time to shut down everything noisy or on a screen and simply ponder. Because I have things that perplex me, that I worry about, that I wish I knew how to fix. I trust that God knows how to fix them, though. And this three step method is a way to tap into that great wellspring of His knowledge--that He is willing to give me if I simply desire, believe, and ponder.

Does God Really Have Time for Me?

A few years ago a friend of mine gave me a collection of her favorite quotes. It was so good it made me want to start keeping my own collection. The other day while looking for something else, I found my little quote journal. This thing I'd written down really struck me, and I've been thinking of it every day since.


"[God] has infinite attention to spare for each one of us. He does not have to deal with us in the mass. You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created. When Christ died, He died for you individually just as much as if you had been the only man in the world." --C.S. Lewis


I don't know about everyone else, but there are times when I know the worries in my life are trivial. There are so many others who have bigger concerns, that when I want to pray about my problem, ask for help with my dumb little thing, I feel guilty asking for help. Answering my prayer would be a waste of His time. Right?


This quote says no. That way of thinking is a fallacy. He has infinite time and infinite attention.


My concerns might be small compared to others' but they're still mine, and He still cares for me enough to stop, listen, help. He doesn't have to take His eyes off someone else in order to look my way. I am not a waste of His time.


How liberating! How comforting! How much LOVE I feel just in this idea alone.


I am His. He is mine. And He cares for me and my cares, great or small. It makes me want to go to Him more, to trust Him more, to give him more opportunities to guide and bless my life.

How Can I Strengthen Others?

Like I posted a few weeks ago, I have seen lots of friends and family around me lately facing trials--some that almost seem too much to bear. This morning I just pondered on that for a while and asked the question, "How can I strengthen others?"


I know that I can't stop someone's illness. I can't take away the pain of the loss of a child. I can't fix the big heartbreaks. It's not in my power. I'm just...me. And I have my own little muddles I'm working through, and I have kids to care for and their muddles.


Still, I wish I could somehow lighten others' loads.


So this morning I turned to the scriptures to see if there was some way I could help. I started by checking the index under the word "strengthen."


One verse stuck out to me:


5 Wherefore, be faithful; stand in the office which I have appointed unto you; succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees. (Doctrine and Covenants 81:5)


A lot of my dear ones right now have hands which hang down. But how could I lift them?


The next verse I found was in the Book of Mormon.


3 And thus we see that the commandments of God must be fulfilled. And if it so be that the children of men keep the commandments of God he doth nourish them, and strengthen them, and provide means whereby they can accomplish the thing which he has commanded them. (1Nephi 17:3)


Of course *I* wasn't going to do the strengthening, and this made it clear. God does all the strengthening. And according to this verse, the promise is that He will strengthen His children when they keep the commandments. Maybe I could help my loved ones keep the commandments. Just exactly how to do that isn't clear. But I did have a chance to take a young friend to church (after a while of being away) a couple of weeks ago, where she was embraced by friends, and since then I've seen so much strength come into her life. Maybe something like that. Not sure. Maybe something else will come to me.


Another little story in the Book of Mormon helped me think of another thing. These people had been pretty wicked, and just as they were in the process of repenting and getting their lives back on track, a group of bad guys swooped in and enslaved them. So they were praying. A lot. And then things got worse:


11 ...he put guards over them to watch them, that whosoever should be found calling upon God should be put to death.

 12 And Alma and his people did not raise their voices to the Lord their God, but did pour out their hearts to him; and he did know the thoughts of their hearts.

 13 And it came to pass that the voice of the Lord came to them in their afflictions, saying: Lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage.

 14 And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions.

 15 And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.

 16 And it came to pass that so great was their faith and their patience that the voice of the Lord came unto them again, saying: Be of good comfort, for on the morrow I will deliver you out of bondage (Mosiah 24:11-16).

But like this says, after the people prayed anyway, even if only in their hearts, with great earnestness, a miracle occurred. Prayers were answered and God strengthened their backs, which made their burdens light.

I can pray for those I love who are in trials. I can pray with them. I can encourage them to keep praying. Prayer is key. I've seen this in reality in my own life.

Finally, since I was running out of scripture time this morning, I flipped to the Old Testament, where I found one of the coolest answers to my question. It wasn't that I meant to look for it. It just happened to be in the chapter I was in my daily reading, 2 Chronicles chapter 20.

In the story, Jehoshaphat had been preparing the people of Judah for a huge battle against the Syrians and Ammonites. To prepare them he set his mind, declared a day of fasting, gathered his people at the temple, and prayed with incredible humility and strength, putting all his trust in the LORD.

Then came the thing that surprised me. He appointed SINGERS. Singers? Yep. He put them out in FRONT of the troops who were lining up to battle They went before the front line, singing songs of praise and strengthening the resolve and faith of those who would fight.

God fought their battle. All their enemies fell before them--and it seemed like the enemies turned on each other and started wiping each other out. Jehoshaphat's army prevailed through the Lord.

Music. Maybe I can find good, uplifting music to share with these loved ones of mine to help them get through.

It's hard to feel so helpless as I witness suffering, but maybe there's even a little something I can do. The scriptures really are full of incredible answers to even the small, everyday questions.

She's Hatin' It -- Dealing With a Bad Day

I've been remembering a bunch of lingo from days gone by lately. Cool beans, anyone?


I went to see a young woman I know, and her boyfriend was there. Both of them were having a bad day. He was describing some of the people he'd run into during his last job (sales) as "buttmunchers." It wasn't a word I really ever used, but it took me back.


Then I started thinking about the term "hating it"-- or as we pronounced it, "hatin' it." My friend's boyfriend was, as we said in the '80s and '90s, "hatin' it." Lost his job, was getting kicked out of his house, had not a dollar to his name, couldn't find another job, needed cash to get to a city 1000 miles away to his only kind family member. Hatin' it.


That term floated around a lot. Something bad would happen to someone and we'd be discussing it and almost inevitably the word would come up. "Oh, man. She was doing a triple flip off the diving board and belly flopped. Man, she was hatin' it." Or, "Dude dropped all his classes and then found out he wasn't going to be able to go on the trip after all. Now he's hatin' it."


Any bad situation could be described as hating it.


Sometimes I end up having a bad day. Like, for instance, today. Not that I've attempted any triple flips or enrolled in college or even planned a failed trip. However, things have just been tough to take today. (And I am not sure if that's because things were actually hard, or if it's attributable to that old problem of "that which we don't persist in doing becomes more difficult to do, not because the nature of the thing itself has changed, but because our ability to do has decreased." Okay, that was warped--but I think it might describe my state of being.)


Anyway, the old term came up. I was hatin' it.


Then a scripture from the New Testament came to mind:

John 12:25

25 He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.


I think most of the time, I'm living a very blessed life. I know that is so. And it's because I've been lifted up by the arms of giants -- my parents and grandparents and ancestors and other people of great faith. Teachers, relatives, kind friends, my dear husband. I know that the blessings I enjoy are not of my own making. Sure, I have tried to be appreciative of the blessings I've been given by not squandering them for the most part, but it's clearly not a case of being a self-made woman. Most of the time I'm loving my life. (See above.)


However, I do know people who are hating it. Trials given to good people. Lack of opportunities or support through which others must muddle.Those who don't have a spiritual grounding to give them stability and strength, which alone would make anyone so they were hating it.


But then, like Savior taught, the good news is this: hating it can be a good thing. It's something the Lord uses to our advantage. Those of us who live a good life most of the time may not have the opportunities to learn to lean on the Lord, may not grow in faith. The hating it portions of life are the times when the mettle is tested.


And we all end up hating it sooner or later. The Lord has customized trials for each of us.


Like I have said before, writing fiction has taught me a lot of things, and one of them is about how conflict (in fiction or in life) reveals character. Probably a day like today, where a few minor things weren't going my way, revealed that my inner character is a big, fat whiner in need of greater faith. What I need to remember is that the Lord is playing "the long game" with my soul, and I need to look farther down the line.


Another idea has hit me lately, and that is when we are in the thick of things and everything looks horrible and like it's "total wackness" (another '90s saying that I obviously didn't say much because I sound stupid even typing it), that what we need to do is remember that this moment is nothing but what I call "a snapshot in time."


We can't judge things based on the moment. What may seem like a tragedy right this minute could be a completely different situation in a few days, weeks, or even years. A couple of months ago, I was really down about a situation with some loved ones that had seemed impossibly bad for about five years. Then, within a few days, I heard news that showed that things had turned around drastically for all of these dear ones.


My despair had been based on a snapshot in time.


Things get better. Things won't always be bleak. If you're "hating it" right now, there is a good time coming. We have to hold on. And in the meantime, latch onto the idea of the long game. God is playing the long game with our lives. He lets us hate our lives so he can make us into something beautiful. And even though there are some lives that seem like unmitigated sorrow (we've all known situations like this), we must latch onto another idea--that those who hate their lives in this world will be blessed with eternal life. God will not let the downtrodden go unrewarded. He notices. He cares. He will bless those who suffer. He chastens those who He loves. (Us. All of us.)

Why Bad Things Happen To Good People -- A Bible Answer

Maybe it's only me, but it seems like life goes in waves sometimes. There are peaks and valleys, times of ease and times of trial. Right now in the lives of many people I love and care about, it seems like waves of trial. A loss of a job -- complicated by a dire illness in the family, a child stricken with disease, a wayward loved one making destructive choices, financial crises, marriages in trouble, health struggles, and so on. I have mourned with them, and wondered why these good people are going through so much difficulty.


But that is the age-old question: Why should good people have to suffer bad things?


We've heard it a hundred times. Shouldn't the righteous be blessed and the wicked punished? And yet it doesn't seem to work that way. Sometimes the wicked seem to prosper and the righteous struggle. How could a just God allow that to happen? Those who are following Him, doing their best, still end up with trials--some of them simply huge.


Some people say the scriptures don't address this, and yet, the words of Christ teach us this is going to happen-- and why. Granted, it's in the Gospel of John, and the words in that book are somewhat poetic, and maybe a little harder to grasp the meaning, at least for me, but here's the passage I'm thinking of.


John 15:1-8
1 I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman.


The first part means, since these are the words of Christ, He is the "true vine," the thing from which we all grow from and find nourishment in. The second part means the Father is the one in charge of the whole vineyard. He decides how to take care of all the grapevines and then is the one that keeps the fruit at the end. Christ always gives the glory to His Father.


2 Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.


We're the branches on the vine. When we don't bear fruit, the Husbandman takes them away. I think that means the Father doesn't let those people have His Spirit with them.


When, however, we do bear fruit, he "purges" us. The footnote for the word "purgeth" says it comes from a Greek word meaning "try, test, prove."


My husband is a backyard farmer and has been taking good care of our grapevines this year.  We've gone a few years with only tiny, sour grapes--too many bunches of them, all basically inedible. This year, though, he got rid of the fruitless branches so they wouldn't suck up all the soil's nutrients. And he went through and cut back the good branches so we'd get more grapes. We're having a good crop of sweet grapes this year because of his work.


The Lord has to cut us back. He has to purge us, prune us. This scripture says the Husbandman gives us trials, for His purpose, and that He wants the branches to bring forth fruit.


I guess there are ways we, too, can cut back in our lives. We can get rid of the things that are sucking the nutrients we need. Time wasters, friends who keep us from doing what we know we should. (Sometimes friends can be clutter.) Bad habits. That's a tangent, but I could benefit from a pruning I give myself and my time for sure.


There are more verses about this and then verse 8 says this:


8 Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.


That is the Father's glory. I know the greatest feelings I glory in are the successes and growth of my children. I sense that is a tiny taste of how our Father feels about us and our growth.


And it is what makes us Christ's disciples.


As I pray for my friends and family members in their times of need, I think of the times of trial I've faced as well. I know there are waves of trial coming my way too, and I hope I can follow the examples of faith of these dear ones. These good people are clinging to the True Vine, the Savior, and He is nourishing them as they go. I'm struck by my friends' faith. It is giving them strength to endure, and I'm inspired by their love for God, and God's love for them.


It's interesting that the verses that follow this passage I've just noted are all about love. God's love is evident in the way he purges us. He wants to make us disciples of Christ, and to glory in us, His children.


And so maybe the bad things happening to good people are actually just "proof" (since the word purge means to prove) that we belong to the True Vine and that we allow the Husbandman to work in our lives. Because He loves us and wants to make us His.

Reverence Begins With Me. Or Not.

I have tried over the years to teach my kids to be reverent in church. We've tried various methods. We've had family night discussions on the topic. I've tried things like bringing coloring books or not bringing coloring books. We've done fruit snacks and no fruit snacks. We've tried our usual "delicate balance of threats and bribery." I'll never forget the Sunday when, during the sacrament, one of my children (all of whom have voices that carry supernaturally well) sang out clear as a bell, "Conjunction Junction, what's your function?"


Ah. Yes. Reverence in church.


What we've finally settled on is this: come in, sit down. Make sure you sing all the hymns. Listen as well as you can. It's okay to draw a little, or to have maybe one toy (nothing that beeps or clicks), but that paper or toy cannot come out of the bag until after the sacrament is over. As they get older, it's getting easier. Much easier. But there are still times when it's not a success. Like today.


For anyone who is reading this that hasn't been to a Mormon sacrament meeting, it's a full family affair, and sometimes it just isn't as quiet as we'd all like it to be. But we're striving! And it lasts about 65 minutes, the last 40 being talks given by assigned members of the congregation, the first 25 generally being song, prayer, announcements, business, and then the administering of the bread and water. It's the most important time to be solemn and reflective. We're encouraged to come weekly to receive this and to recommit to following God and to reconnect with the Holy Spirit in our lives, showing that we repent and will try again. Since we all fail. As you shall soon see.


Because today, there was a fail.


I had meetings before church today, which meant I wasn't home to monitor things. I wasn't particularly surprised when my 6 year old showed up with two different shoes: one little black sparkly shoe that's too small (a left shoe) juxtaposed with a pink Disney Princess croc. Also a left shoe. Yeah, I rolled my eyes. Should've totally finished the getting-the-girl-dressed job before I left. I had everything on her but the shoes. Alas.


The other kids looked fine.


But then, I made the mistake of not confiscating all the toys right before the meeting started. My sons had a friend sitting with them, so there were a lot of people between me and the littlest one. The Long Arm of the Mom was not quite long enough. But they knew the rules, right? Toys would stay hidden.


Wrong. Totally.


And worst of all, it was the most wrongest toy ever of all time. Made wronger by the 9 year old and her decorative mini-duct-tape supply.


When I should have been thinking about sacred things, I peeked open an eye and glanced down the pew. There, the six year old had out her doll. Not any doll. A Barbie. But not any Barbie. It was a male Barbie doll--a gift from the neighbor girl across the street: The Justin Bieber action figure Barbie.


And it had on no clothes.


Except the decorative mini-duct-tape placed strategically over his white plastic underwear. It was sparkly. And it had rainbow peace symbols on it. And it was at church.


And at that moment, I will sadly admit: reverence did not begin with me.


I am committed to trying harder next week. And to confiscating all such toys ahead of time.

When is Not-Enough Enough?

Lately I have had a few worries about whether or not what I am, what I do, what I have... all those things... whether it's enough. Maybe I'm not the only one who stresses about those things. It's tough to be part of this world where there are always outside forces telling us "more" is what we need to be/do/have. It's why I avoid Pinterest like the plague. I can never be/do/have all of that, and it cripples my self-esteem when I spend time there.


Anywayzzzzz. So, I'd been praying about this. How could what I am/do/have be enough? Ever? It seems like I lack so severely! Others with even less (in the way of means or health or whatever) seem to get by so well, and seem to do so with grace and faith. Why couldn't I just trust God and let Him care for me? That, too, was a worry. Why wasn't my faith enough?


Nevertheless, there are times when I look at myself and think, This is obviously going to fall short--way, way short. The great thing I'm shooting for can never, ever, ever be accomplished with the current resources. It's impossible.


Enter...the scriptures. They are so good! They are there for me! The life of our Savior illustrates all these great principles and how to handle even moments of mom-misgivings and fears and lack.


So I was reading along in the New Testament, John chapter six, where Christ feeds the multitude. There was a huge crowd. They were hungry. There was no food. Christ asked Philip what they were going to do, just to prove him.


Okay, I'll just copy and paste the words from the KJV.


5 ¶When Jesus then lifted up his eyes, and saw a great company come unto him, he saith unto Philip, Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat?

 6 And this he said to prove him: for he himself knew what he would do.

 7 Philip answered him, Two hundred pennyworth of bread is not sufficient for them, that every one of them may take a little.

 8 One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, saith unto him,

 9 There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves, and two small fishes: but what are they among so many?

 10 And Jesus said, Make the men sit down. Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, in number about five thousand.

 11 And Jesus took the loaves; and when he had given thanks, he distributed to the disciples, and the disciples to them that were set down; and likewise of the fishes as much as they would.

 12 When they were filled, he said unto his disciples, Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.

 13 Therefore they gathered them together, and filled twelve baskets with the fragments of the five barley loaves, which remained over and above unto them that had eaten.

As I read this, a phrase from in verse eleven jumped out at me like it was neon-lit:

and when he had given thanks

It was after He took what little he had, and gave thanks, and shared with others, that there was enough. No, there was more than enough. There was excess beyond what they started with.


It hit me that if I give thanks for the things I have been blessed with, and share with others, that God can make my meager means enough. No, more than enough. That He can, when I show gratitude, turn a pittance into a fortune.


I've heard it said that faith and fear cannot coexist, and so I am going to have to dump my fear. Sacrifice it. Give it up. Dang it, I find I hold onto it hard. It's going to take faith I am short on and trust that He can make me and my efforts and my means enough to accomplish His great work in whatever it is He requires of me, whether it is in my home or my family or in my efforts to serve Him. That He will multiply my efforts, which are OBVIOUSLY not enough, and make them enough.

A Little Mother's Day Consolation Post

Some of you have already been accosted with my previous thoughts on motherhood. The one about the seeds and the dirt? Well, anyway, here's a second consolatory thought for all of us who suspect that we just might stink at motherhood.




A couple of years ago I was asked to speak in church on Mother's Day. I called my dad, asking what to say. He always knows what to say. And this time was no different. Here's his story.


"One Mother's Day in Grandma and Grandpa's ward, your uncle's teenage friend was asked to offer the closing prayer after the Mother's Day Sunday meeting. Lots and lots of laudatory things had been said about the speakers' 'Angel Mothers' and so forth. Your uncle's friend approached the microphone, bowed his head, and said,  'We're thankful for our mothers. Please bless all those mothers here who aren't as good as the ones we've heard about today that they won't feel bad.'"


Amen, brother.


I don't know about you all, but as much as I love Mother's Day for the opportunity to think about and praise my own mother, going the other direction generationally is a bit more anxiety-inducing. It's all about misgivings and worries and wishing-I-could've dones. And yet, ...


There's a scripture I turn to in those times. Isaiah 40:11.


11 He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.


He shall gently lead mothers. I have to hang my hopes on that gentle leading. And I know it's true. Who among us insecure mothers hasn't felt it many times?


Like that impression you get to go look at the 2 year-old's feet. At 3:00 a.m. And there's a scorpion there that you kill (get your husband to kill) before it strikes.


Or the time when the 3 year-old and her friend pick all the fruit off the experimental trees in the greenhouse and cut holes in your brand new duvet cover (that you waited six years to get) and eat the centers out of all the chocolate pies for Thanksgiving and it's your birthday...and all you can do is laugh and decide to not let that friend come and play again. Ever. And you know the only reason you didn't turn into a shrieking banshee is the Spirit showed you the humor in the situation.


Or when the 7 year-old runs away at an outdoor festival in the desert and you can't find her for 20 minutes and you're about to freak out and need a straight jacket and something (the Spirit, obviously) just tells you to get it together. It's going to be fine, and then after another 20 minutes, it is.


And the six thousand other things that motherhood is about that you couldn't of your own power have dealt with. Because on our own, we're just not good enough. And we feel bad about it. Because we know it so deeply. Which is what makes Mother's Day hard. We know intuitively that very little if any of the good we affect comes of our own goodness.


So, to all of us imperfect mothers, Happy Mother's Day. And thank Heaven for the gentle leading as we go.

What is a Testimony, Really?

The other day I was looking up the word "tabernacle" in the Bible Dictionary. It was basically a mobile temple used while the Children of Israel wandered 40 years on the wilderness before entering the promised land.


A lot of the description of the tabernacle had to do with the length of the poles that held up the fancy curtains and what kinds of wood were used in the construction. It was a condensed version of what it says in Deuteronomy.


I skimmed.


But then my eyes landed on this part that talks about what was kept in the holiest place of the tabernacle. It was the Ark of the Covenant.


Now, we've all heard of this thing, if we've watched Indiana Jones do his thing. And we've probably all heard the story of what happened to Uzziah when he reached up to steady it when the oxen tripped while dragging the ark. Zap. But what was really inside the ark (a.k.a., very nice wooden box)?


According to the scriptures, within the ark were the stone tablets upon which the finger of God had written the commandments when He gave them to Moses on Mount Sinai. The Israelites kept these in the most sacred place they had while living in camping conditions for decades: the ark.


But what stopped me cold was the alternate name for the ark: The Ark of the Testimony.


All of a sudden, this idea poured into my head, that a testimony is something where the hand of God has written something indelible--such as these plates of stone. And that my testimony is the collection of things that God has written upon the tables of my heart, never to be removed.


I do have a testimony. God's hand has written many things on my heart over the 40+ years I have been a sojourner on this earth. He can write better when my heart is fleshy than when it is stony. He can write more when I come to Him. He can write more when I humble myself and seek to share His love and search out the One.


It's incredible that each of us can have this writing on our souls. God is so good.

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:

 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.

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.

Heavenly Time Management

I think it’s funny how just when you get to the point that you think you’re so swamped or busy or overwhelmed that you couldn’t possibly handle one more thing, that’s when the Lord hands you something huge to do.

And you find you can.

With His help.

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.

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.

Heavenly Help for Those Sleepless Nights

Do you ever have those days (or sleepless nights) when memories of stupid things you’ve said or done come flying back at you and pain you like scorpion stings? It doesn’t even have to be major mistakes—because even just the faux pas of social interaction can cause the soul to cringe and shrink.

 

I happen to have a lot of these. In fact, I’d venture to guess that because I’m both a talk-a-holic and a bit impulsive, I have maybe more than anyone else. Oh, maybe pride tells me that. Or maybe because on those nights when I can’t sleep and memories of these idiotic things fill my mind in a seemingly endless parade of painful recollection, I can’t imagine anyone could have more, and if they did, they’d have my sincerest compassion.

 

Like the time I called the CEO of one of the largest employers in the state of Utah “Captain Micron” --to his face. Or the time I fake-hyperventilated when I got pulled over for speeding. Or… No. I’ll save you the pain. And besides. This is a blog, not an epic novel. And these are just the mildest of the mild. (Note: This is one big reason why I’m a novelist. Because then I get to spread all my thousands of most embarrassing moments over scores of characters, instead of centralizing them all in one person. They’re more believable that way.)

 

So, anyway, these and so many, many, many others come back to me and make me feel like a total, blithering idiot. Frequently. I get thoughts like, “How could any one person be so dumb?” Or worse self-worth destroying thoughts as the faux pas progress into serious mistakes that might really have hurt someone but it’s far too late to know how to repair them.

 

The other day I was reading in Exodus, the part where the “fiery flying serpents” attacked the Israelites while they were still during their 40-year wander. It says that lots and lots of people died from these. But then it says that Moses went to the Lord and asked what to do to heal the people, and God told him to make a serpent’s likeness. Moses held it up, and all the suffering people had to do was to look at it and they’d be healed. Many did. But many didn’t. Because they didn’t believe it would work. Because it was too easy. And instead they suffered and writhed and died.

 

Of course this is a symbol of the loving grace of Jesus Christ, his suffering in behalf of our sins. All my life I’ve heard this story and wanted to think I was someone who would look to God and live, repent rather than suffer.

 

However, the other day, as I was thinking back on some negative experiences in my past, things that gave me those “scorpion sting” memories, I ached to not recall them with pain. Many of them should simply be “lessons learned,” things I could look at dispassionately as part of a less mature version of myself who could take that experience and grow. I mean, it’s not like I look back at myself learning to ride a bike and feel so sorry and bad about myself for crashing a few (a lot of) times and gouging up my knees and elbows in the process. Those memories don’t cause emotional anguish, no. Why should social things I had to learn by (sad) experience? Maybe they shouldn’t.

 

Maybe…maybe I didn’t have to suffer them. Maybe I didn’t have to have those sleepless nights be plagued.

 

Maybe the solution was much more simple than I’d realized. And it had been there all along. And I simply hadn’t taken advantage of it. And I could just look to God and live. Stop dying over these dumb little (or big) things.

 

Let Him heal me.

 

Because the atonement of Jesus Christ is big enough. It’s big enough for the huge sins. It’s big enough for the tiny stings that we inflict on ourselves and others. It can heal those we hurt. It can heal those who hurt (including us!)

 

Including me.

How to Be Infused With Christlike Love--A 5 Step Pattern

This morning I had occasion to study about love. I have just received a new assignment at church, one where I have responsibility for teaching and nurturing a lot of young people. It's a daunting challenge, and one I feel like I need to really humble myself to be able to accomplish in any pleasing fashion.


The one key that keeps coming to my mind is "love." Of course. Of course.


As I searched the scriptures to find how to get more of that vital quality, I kept finding a clear pattern, and although it makes perfect sense, I was just shaking my head at myself for never seeing it so obviously before. Maybe everyone who ever reads this already knows these things, and if so, apologies, just feel good about yourself and pity my obtuseness. However, it felt like an epiphany to me, and so I'm going to point it out, if only for my own benefit in outlining it concisely.


First off: here's one of the scriptures that led me to this pattern. Moroni 8:25-26:


25 And the first fruits of ^arepentance is ^bbaptism; and baptism cometh by faith unto the fulfilling the commandments; and the fulfilling the commandments bringeth ^cremission of sins;

 26 And the remission of sins bringeth ^ameekness, and lowliness of heart; and because of meekness and lowliness of heart cometh the visitation of the ^bHoly Ghost, which ^cComforter ^dfilleth with hope and perfect ^elove, which love endureth by ^fdiligence unto ^gprayer, until the end shall come, when all the ^hsaints shall dwell with God.

Repent (and be baptized) 

Which brings a remission of sins

Which makes us meek and lowly

Which brings the Holy Ghost

Which fills us with love

I like how it also says we can "endure in this love" by earnest prayer. And that we should. And we can.

And so basically, if I want to love more, I need to repent more.

This is something, now that I'm remembering experiences in my life, I know to be true.

I remember a few years ago, I had something I wanted to be forgiven of. As I was going through the repentance process, I felt a strong impression that there was something standing in my way: a grudge. Months (maybe years) before, a group of people had done something publicly that really wounded me and my family. I still felt the pain of that, and harbored bad feelings. (Like, if I saw one guy walking across the street, I sometimes considered running over him. Yeah, I'm a small person, I know it.) But as I sought forgiveness for my own wrongs, I knew I needed to forgive. It took time and effort and bucketloads of grace, but that thorn did come loose from my soul.

And what I was left with was a miracle, because, instead of that want-to-smash-people feeling, all I could feel after that experience of repentance and forgiveness, was a strong feeling that "This relief of being forgiven is so great, I would never, ever want to deny it to anyone."

And for me, that was charity. True love.

So, now that I think about it, I know that this is true. Remission of sins does indeed fill the soul with love.

How to Follow Christ: Noticing the One

This past week was weird. I started the week attending a political meeting, where I met and shook hands with important political figures of our state, as well as our nation. My husband and I got our photo taken with someone you've probably heard of, no matter who you are or where you live. There were great speeches given, and bold statements made. Decision-makers spoke. We listened.


Later in the week I attended a writers conference with about 250 other writers, all in different stages of their writing careers. There, in attendance, were award-winning writers. Some had sold millions of books. Some you have probably heard of. Also at the conference were decision-makers. Editors and agents are the gatekeepers of the book industry, and they had come to look for new material to one day be placed on bookshelves in your local store. No matter what workshop we were in, eyes were on these men and women.


On the way home, though, I rode with my friend. We'll call her Valerie. I asked Valerie what was her favorite part of the writing conference. She said it was talking to her dear friend, a longtime writer but one who is now suffering from Parkinson's disease, and who is frail and sat at the back of every session. Valerie took the time to sit and visit with this sister, to make her feel noticed and important and special. Because Valerie's husband also suffers from this disease, and Valerie is his main caregiver, she could really offer empathy to this sister, and could listen better than anyone.


As I thought about these experiences the next morning, I couldn't help but think about the time in Jesus's life when he was teaching in the synagogue and noticed a woman "bent in two." He healed her, though it was the Sabbath. Of course, He caught flak for this, but then He rebuffed His detractors with the fact that she was a daughter of Abraham and deserved to be healed any day of the week.


This story comes to mind often. It's a favorite of mine, I think because I realize there are those around who go unnoticed and whose pain is ignored by the more mainstream of society. But our Savior saw her. And our Savior sees me, and He sees you. And I loved being able to hear about my friend Valerie's skill at noticing the one who no one else noticed, and to show that person love. I want to be like Valerie.


Of course, even the people who are "important," and "decision-makers" also need to be noticed and loved on an individual level. It is wonderful to know that no matter our station in life, the Savior is aware of our needs and our insecurities, of our pain and of our joy.


I love Him. And I love that I have examples of His kind of love in my own life that I can see in action daily.

How to Read the Scriptures: A Seven-Step Pattern

I was reading a book this morning by Clay Christensen, a professor at Harvard University. It covers a lot of different topics, but one thing he wrote really struck me. He said that we get trained in school how to read textbooks and novels, and they are mostly a "start to finish" read-through. However, he said, reading the scriptures is a very different skill set. When reading the scriptures, the most effective way to read is to look for answers to questions we may have.


Then there's a seven-step pattern: pray, read, write; pray, read, write; pray.


When we study the scriptures, the best way is to start with a question. For instance, what about original sin or infant baptism or what happens when a loved one dies.


Then it's like homework, but spiritual homework.


The first step is to PRAY. I find it effective to first pray and express to Heavenly Father my gratitude for the scriptures, for those who sacrificed so much to make them available to me in my language, and to God for his goodness in giving them to me to guide me. Also in the prayer, I talk to Him about my question, the things that concern me, the things I've reasoned out, and the thing that still puzzles me.


The second step is to find and READ scripture passages that apply to the question. (Use the index or topical guide, or ask a missionary or friend if you don't know where to look for the answer.) Read and ponder what is in the passage.


Then get a notebook and WRITE down what insights you've gained through reading the scripture, how your understanding has changed, and so on.


Next, PRAY again. Express gratitude for the understanding gained. Also ask if there's further insight and understanding God might have beyond what was gleaned in the first reading and writing.


Then, READ again, looking for further enlightenment.


WRITE down anything else you might have learned.


Finally, a PRAYER of thanks is in order, plus a COMMITMENT in the heart that we will live true to the truth gained from this study.


Maybe the commitment to live according to truth is the most vital. If the only reason we want to know is to satisfy curiosity, it's not as likely that God will answer these inquiries. However, if we truly intend to live and follow this truth, and we prove to Him that we will by DOING so, then our future study of the scriptures can result in great spiritual insights.


I am so glad I read about this pattern this morning. While I've spent a lifetime studying the scriptures and attending Sunday School classes, I still have questions, and lack understanding of the mysteries of God. I plan to make this pattern a part of my morning study routine. Doing this will slow me down in my study--exactly what I've been intending to do.