Things to "never" pray for

Many years ago, as a young parent, I prayed for patience.

And then I stopped :).

Heavenly Father took my up on my prayer, and o, boy!  The first thing you have to learn before you can actually learn something is to learn how much you don't know something.  It was painful, and I wasn't sure I was up to it. In fact, I knew I wasn't.

However, Heavenly Father thought differently and slowly, over the years and through one painful experience after another (see the "exploding peaches" episode in this blog a few years back...painful!), I have come to realize I am becoming more patient.  Not finished "patient" yet, but more patient :).

Well, fast forward to the present day.

The last two months have been truly the most painful emotional time that I can remember next to experiencing Isaak's death, and at times I have felt on par with the emotional depth I plunged to during that time of my life.  It has been searing. It has been jarring. It has been beyond description.

I have felt lonely, isolated, and misunderstood. I have been hurt time and again by people dear to me.  While I am fully aware that "hurt" is often a choice and a perception on my part, it still hurt and I struggled with understanding the underlying emotions and personal reasons for feeling hurt, seeking at first to cope and then to approach the individual situations in a positive light.

And I have failed again and again and again as I have felt tested and tried in these particularly sensitive personal situations.

Now my inability to cope emotionally currently may be due to pregnancy; I am fully aware of that "emotional complication." However, the issues that have surfaced have been ones I have dealt with and repressed or treated in an unhealthy fashion for years and I feel for some reason now that I just need to face them and find healthy mental pathways for dealing with them.  I have been daily praying, singing hymns, reading or listening to scriptures and a conference talk as part of my personal devotional, seeking to have the spirit as literally a lifeline at times when my understanding is clouded, my emotional state stormy and I am literally emotionally sinking beneath the waves.  The answer I have found over and over and over again in my study and prayer is: "charity."  Charity, which never faileth.  Charity, which seeketh not her own and is not easily provoked (tough ones).  Charity, with believeth all things, hopeth all things, and endureth all things.

My rambling may not make sense but I do have a point :).  This morning, as I lay in bed and my mind started down those well-trodden, unhealthy pathways, the recent reminder of "charity" again floated through my head and I cried out mentally, "But it is so hard!"

Then came the answer: "It is what you prayed for, my child."

It hit me.  As a project for a youth group I was doing this last semester, I studied charity and prayed for it.  I prayed for it!  The prayers of that month came back distinctly to my mind and I realized what was happening.  Just as when I had prayed for patience so many years ago, I had prayed for charity.  And what is the first step to learning how to be something?  Learning how far you have to go.  Ouch.

This reminds me of President Eyring and the experience he shared in Conference in the last few years about the time he prayed for a trial and subsequently received the hardest trial of his life.  It reminds me of shortly before Isaak's death, when I wondered why I wasn't worthy of receiving "big trials"...and then I had one and realized that "worthiness" had nothing to do with it and that some of the trials I had faced privately for years before that were themselves comparable "refiner's fires"...without the support.

God is listening.  Perhaps like with answering our own children's questionsL we are ready for the answer when we are ready to ask the question, but oh!  I have so far to go and it has been soooo painful so far.  Part of me knows it is worth it and part of me quails at the price, knowing how hard it has already been.  Ah, well.  Forward and onward.

Love as He loves...

I have recently been hurt by someone.  It feels deep.  It is personal. And I really wanted to just hold onto it.  Sure, I wasn't outwardly acting on it.  It seemed simple enough.  I don't see these people often, so I could just feel slighted, angry and hurt and surely it was a small thing.

Or so I thought.

Prompting after prompting brings it to my rememberance..."you haven't forgiven them, Mary."  "I know, Father, but surely I am okay.  It is small.  I can just go on and no one will be affected by it."

And then, I tried to give it up.  I tried to forgive.  I tried to think kindly of them. I tried to even start thinking kindly of them.

Apparently, it is not as small as I thought.

This morning, as I lay awake in bed, my mind started wandering again down these familiar, bitter paths.     A good friend advised me to stop my mind immediately from going down those unhealthy paths by dropping to my knees (or folding my arms in bed) and offering a plea to heaven that God will help my mind find a healthy path to follow.  This morning, I did just that, but still felt the after-effects of bitterness. I needed a little more help (okay, a lot!) and knew I needed to find God's answer, not just sit and wait for it.

I opened up the most recent conference issue to the talk "Approaching the Throne of God with Confidence", in which Klebingat says:

What thoughts come to mind if you had a personal interview with your Savior one minute from now? Would sins, regrets, and shortcomings dominate your self-image, or would you simply experience joyful anticipation?

The thought, "you need to forgive" immediately presented itself to my mind.   I know from Doctrine and Covenants 64:9-10 that God will forgive whom he will forgive but of us it is required to forgive all men (there is no exception) and if we do not, in us lies the greater sin.

Now, that is pretty heavy doctrine. There are a fair number of pretty awful sins that people can commit against us, so to say that in us lies the greater sin if we do not forgive even these horrible sins is significant.  

Apparently, that is not what God wants me to do.  Over the past month, every time I read or thought or heard about "our gift to the Savior" in my mind would run the now-familiar refrain I mentioned earlier, "you need to forgive."  It doesn't matter how justified I feel or how difficult it has been, this is what God wants me to do.  So I have tried.  I have tried praying and asking Him to redirect my thoughts. I have felt my heart gradually softening but whenever I think of these people, I am still overwhelmed with disappointment and bitterness.  I feel like Corrie Ten Boom, from "The Hiding Place" who cannot seem to raise her arm to shake the hand of the SS Officer in front of her, the officer who claims Christ's forgiveness after the cruel things he did to Corrie's dear sister Betsy.  I know the "offense" against me pales in comparison to Corrie's, so why is it so hard to "raise my arm" to extend forgiveness? I have felt like I have been blindly groping about in the dark for an answer these past few weeks.

Well, I got my answer, but it was a hard one.

As I read the talk by Klebingat, I pled once again, "How can I forgive?  Please help me move on!  I can't do this on my own!"  My answer was, "The people who hurt you do not love you as you love them.  They are not guilty of betraying a love toward you that they do not feel."

That was it! That was why I hurt!  In my mind, I had been telling myself, "How could they act like this?!  I would never do this to them!" and in my mind had assumed that they felt that love for me.  However, through the lens of the Spirit, my mind opened and I realized that they had never shown or expressed anything to indicate that love.  Sure, they enjoyed being with me when we were together, but the kind of love that reaches out, sacrifices for and supports one another has never been there.  That love is something that I have assumed they have felt for me and equally assumed that they have willingly neglected over the years, "hurting me" every time they "betrayed" that love.

I wept. And yet, I felt strangely at peace.

As my emotions slowed and calmed, I thought, "What does this mean? What does this mean for our relationship?"  The scripture came to mind, "Love one another as I have loved you."

It hit me. The commandment or even expectation has never been for a follower of Christ to only love those who love us.  I have been transferring false feelings and expectations on others for years, I realize, expecting them to love me as I love them.   Heavenly Father knows best.  He wants us to love as He loves, without expectation of reward, compensation or even reciprocation.

I feel that this is the initial step of a personal emotional journey of introspection.  I know I don't fully understand the implications of this epiphany and feel I have some serious personal changes to make. I feel that perhaps these that have "offended me" and others in similar situations of my life are loving me in their own way and with their own capacity to love.  I feel perhaps that I have idealized what love should be and subsequently held everyone I have loved up to that ideal, assuming that when they fall short of it, it is because they simply do not love me enough...hurting me probably unknowingly and unintentionally.  I think I have a road of learning ahead of me--perhaps even the truth that I am not loving them as I think I have been!--, but for now, I will focus on this truth: "We are asked to love others as Christ loves, not as others love us."  Our Savior, who loved us so much He gave His life for us...Our Savior who loves us with true charity, that feeling that suffers long, envieth not, seeketh not its own, endureth all things.

While this path does not appear to be the easy one, I think I will take its prospects over the path of bitterness and disappointment I have chosen to walk all these years.

The condition of our hearts...

I have been intrigued by a concept that reoccurs in my scripture reading, the state of our heart.  For instance, I read this morning that because peoples' hearts were hard, they were destroyed.

Now contrast that with so much of what we hear today:
-You need to be tough so no one can hurt you.
-Protect your heart.
-Don't be such a softie!
-They wear their heart on their sleeve.

We fear to give our hearts to others.  To open up ourselves feels vulnerable. To be tender-hearted may be smiled upon condescendingly, but never seems to be something that is celebrated as a strength.

Yet God repeatedly asks us for a broken heart, a contrite spirit. He asks us to soften our hearts.  Yet that seems so vulnerable!

It reminds me of a quote I read years ago in "The Road Less Travelled" by Peck:

 In a world crying out in desperate need for competence, an extraordinarily competent and loving person can no more withhold his or her competence than such a person could deny food to a hungry infant.

Spiritually evolved people, by virtue of their discipline, mastery and love, are people of extraordinary competence, and in their competence they are called on to serve the world, and in their love they answer the call.

They are inevitably, therefore, people of great power, although the world may generally behold them as quite ordinary people, since more often than not they will exercise their power in quiet or even hidden ways. Nonetheless, exercise power they do, and in this exercise they suffer greatly, even dreadfully. For to exercise power is to make decisions, and the process of making decisions with total awareness if often infinitely more painful than making decisions with limited or blunted awareness. Imagine two generals, each having to decide whether or not to commit a division of ten thousand men to battle. To one the division is but a thing, a unit of personnel, an instrument of strategy and nothing more. To the other it is these things, but he is also aware of each and every one of the ten thousand lives and the lives of the families of each of the ten thousand. For whom is the decision easier?

It is easier for the general who has blunted his awareness precisely because he cannot tolerate the pain of a more nearly complete awareness. It may be tempting to say, "Ah, but a spiritually evolved man would never become a general in the first place." But the same issue is involved in being a corporation president, a physician, a teacher, a parent.

Decisions affecting the lives of others must always be made. The best decision-makers are those who are willing to suffer the most over their decisions but still retain their ability to be decisive. One measure—and perhaps the best measure—of a person's greatness is the capacity for suffering. Yet the great are also joyful.

 To love, to soften our heart, to open ourselves to love and be loved by others, to be accepted or rejected by others can hurt...oh, it can hurt so much!  Yet is this what God asks of us?

Just musing, I realize that if our offerings are to God and our outpouring of love to others is a part of that offering, it doesn't matter the rejection of others, for if we are showing love and reaching out to others out of love to God, His love and approval will never be withheld.  He will never reject the offering of our hearts, if we offer them to others in His name.

"When ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God."  To love and serve others is how we show our love to God.  If it is to Him we are offering it, it will always be accepted, however, the earthly vessel may receive it.

Still pondering how the softening of our hearts can be a strong and healthy thing in a world where hurt and offense abound...

How does this softening look in word and deed?

I would love insight.

Do you love me?...You're a fool.

One of our family's favorite movies is "Fiddler on the Roof."  Well, it's one of Quinn's favorites and many lines and songs have become a part of our family language.

For instance, we love to say "Ahhhh--MEN" and then fake spit.  Yes. It is just something we do.

One song, however, has recently been on my mind:

It captures something I have been thinking about lately, this thing called "love."   We hear of many different definitions of love these days.  I like the refrain from one particular popular song, "We're not broken, just bent."  Sometimes, love can feel that way.  However, all too often, "broken" is seen as "irrepairable" when it may be actually just beating us into a more beautiful, stronger shape much like a piece of iron on the forge in the hand of a master metalsmith.

Tevya and Golda's introspective analysis of their relationship is very profound.  The endurance over the years, the shared experiences--loss and joy--, the shared workload and the symbiotic relationship they have created provides each of them a deep sense of trust, of security and of endurance.  They know that they will always have each other to depend upon, even when Golda might complain, "one could die from such a man!"

 1 Corinthians 13 describes it beautifully:

 1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.

 2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

 3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

 4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

 5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;

 6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

 7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

 8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

 9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

 10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

 11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

 12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

 13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

I fear that we are overlooking the gifts of love that are all around us, those gifts that are there in abundance if, like Golda and Tevya, we just take a minute to acknowledge them.

We know the end of the story...

A couple days ago, as I was reading in 2 Nephi 21 (Isaiah 11) , I came across the beautiful chapter that describes the millenial reign of Jesus Christ, with the lamb and the lion lying down together and not hurting each other.  My kids were playing in the room at the time and I couldn't help but share the beautiful images with them, imagining playing with all sorts of animals without any fear or hurt. 

Hava my six year old was especially thrilled and excited asked me when it was going to happen.  "We don't know," I answered, "no one but Heavenly Father knows, but by the signs of the times we know we are getting closer." She happily ran through the house, announcing the nearness of the Second Coming.

A little while later, Hava came back dejected and hesitant.  My little Hava is easily scared and some of her siblings told her some of the events that are foretold to accompany the Second Coming: earthquakes, wars, and bloodshed.  As I looked into those big, beautiful brown and fearful eyes, I started to assure her that the message from Isaiah for the righteous is one of peace, despite the horrific surroundings.  When she still wasn't consoled, I changed tactics.

"Remember when you first watched 'Frozen' and how nervous and afraid you were for Anna when her heart was frozen and it looked like she was dying?" She nodded.

"Now that you have watched it many times,  are you still afraid for her?"  Hava thought, and then shook her head.

"It's because you know everything will turn out alright, right?  Even though it looks bad and terrible, you know Anna will be okay, right?"  When Hava agreed, I continued.

"It is like that with the Second Coming.  Yes, it will be a horrible, scary time.  Even the righteous will be taken prisoner, tortured and killed.  Even the faithful will suffer and fear.  However, we know how it ends, and in the end, there will be no more sorrow, no more pain and God will wipe away our tears and we will know joy."

That is one point that has stood out to me as I have listened to and read the Isaiah portion recently.  There are horrible, terrible things that will happen to us all, but through it all the consolation of the spirit and the Lord are promised to the faithful, to those who believe in God.  That's it.  We will not be saved by our own merits, by our own goodness.  But as we seek to follow God even when it is hard, even when "all the lands of the earth will be drunken with iniquity and all manner of abominations,"  even when "all hands be faint" and "every man's heart shall melt," we know the ending.  We know that "it shall come to pass in taht day that the Lord shall give [us] rest, from [our] sorrow, and from [our] fear, and from the hard bondage wherein [we were] made to serve."


We know how it will all turn out, and like the assurance that resides in Hava from having watched "Frozen" so many times, we can have that same assurance as we repeatedly not only read of God's goodness, power and glory but as we see and acknowledge His hand, power, and miracles in our lives even today. 

And we need not fear.

Who to blame...

Laying awake a couple of nights ago, my thoughts were churning.  I was just plain negative.

Turning on my side, I did something I never do...I turned on my phone in the middle of the night. I needed to snap myself out of this negative cycle and for some reason turned to the phone.  (I avoid this because it would become an easy habit for me to do and I feel it would add to my insomnia.)

As I was cleaning up my emails, I ran across the following article:
http://stephendpalmer.com/power-assumptions/

I loved his approach to assumptions and how fundamental a concept it is.   From basic math to the colors we identify, so much of what we believe in and do are based upon assumptions, assumptions that we take for granted. 

However, the "ownership" part at the end of the article slugged me in the stomach.  I am responsible for my attitude.  I  am responsible for my feelings of loneliness. I am responsible for oh so much.  Laying away at night, I felt all the excuses and blaming that I had been repeating to myself being stripped away to the bare realization of choice...of my ownership.

Sigh.  It is so much easier to blame.   Alas, for the natural man.

(Another great article I just came across by the same man, "The Right To Complain" adds additional interesting insight: http://stephendpalmer.com/complaint-principle/)