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.

 

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.

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.

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.