I have always loved the story of the widow's mite:
"This woman hath given more than they all."
I thought of this story last night as I sat across from Bethany. Bethany is a woman covered with earring and tattoos; a woman broken from years of abuse that started from the moment she came into the world. Every time I see her I am inspired by her courage to even dare to hope that the life she has and has had can be better.
We were at the ward Christmas party and the man she had come with--soon to be her husband--spoke about how he keeps trying to help her understand what the missionaries are teaching her, but Bethany just doesn't get it.
It was then that I knew, Bethany didn't have to get it. She didn't have to have a complex understanding about the application of the Gospel in the many aspects of the Gospel. She didn't need to be temple worthy tomorrow. She didn't have to be chastened for what she wasn't offering from what she didn't have.
At this point, she is giving her all just to show up at church. Not only shouldn't she compare herself to others, it is toxic for herself to measure her worth and success in progressing spiritually by comparing herself to those around us who are blessed with practically an infinite amount more of stability and goodness in our lives.
Bethany's story reminded me of something else, too. There is a story in "Believing Christ" by Stephen Robinson about a woman whom the missionaries met while using the restroom in a bar (or getting drinks or something). The woman was not someone they were seeking out but she sensed something about them and followed them and eventually became baptized. She would accidentally swear in church and then immediately apologize for her roughness. That is her all. That is enough. That moment is when the Atonement of Christ immediately becomes effective. And cleansing. And sufficient.
I remember coming away from this story having been taught that the Atonement of Christ hinges upon where our heart is at any given moment. The Atonement of Christ reaches in to compensate at the moment we say, "This is all I have to give, but I am trying and I really want to be like thee! I really want to hope that you are offering what I think you are offering and I am trying." It doesn't matter if for years we have given of our time and energy to the kingdom of God in this Church and turn our backs on it at the end. It doesn't matter if we've given more than so and so in tithing or worked longer and harder than someone at serving in the Church.
What matters is what does our offering represent.
For Bethany, coming to church on Sunday represents her all. For me, life can be super challenging some weeks and easier others. Some days I can happily reach out and serve others. Other days it is painful to try and reach out because sometimes rejection and disinterest is just, well, painful. Some days I wake up excited to do all the ideas in my head. Other days I lay in bed struggling to get up, discouraged by all the things I either did wrong the day before or by the things that Satan is telling me I should be doing and am not.
I just love this parable because it finally puts to rest in my mind a scripture I have struggled with for years:
I always felt that "my all" meant that I felt drained at the end of the day. Now I know that it just means that I feel peace. I checked in with God, honestly tried to do my best (and I don't have to be frantic about it!) and that His Atonement steps in to compensate, heal, fix, mend, restore, salve, enliven and amend not only for all that I do wrong, but even makes those things I do right sacred. But it is Him that makes it that way. All because my offering represents that I am trusting Him and just genuinely desire to do His will.
That is enough.
That is my all.
For those who feel broken or breaking, I hope we can all see ourselves as Bethany, that we can acknowledge all the ways that we are just trying.
"This woman hath given more than they all."
I thought of this story last night as I sat across from Bethany. Bethany is a woman covered with earring and tattoos; a woman broken from years of abuse that started from the moment she came into the world. Every time I see her I am inspired by her courage to even dare to hope that the life she has and has had can be better.
We were at the ward Christmas party and the man she had come with--soon to be her husband--spoke about how he keeps trying to help her understand what the missionaries are teaching her, but Bethany just doesn't get it.
It was then that I knew, Bethany didn't have to get it. She didn't have to have a complex understanding about the application of the Gospel in the many aspects of the Gospel. She didn't need to be temple worthy tomorrow. She didn't have to be chastened for what she wasn't offering from what she didn't have.
At this point, she is giving her all just to show up at church. Not only shouldn't she compare herself to others, it is toxic for herself to measure her worth and success in progressing spiritually by comparing herself to those around us who are blessed with practically an infinite amount more of stability and goodness in our lives.
Bethany's story reminded me of something else, too. There is a story in "Believing Christ" by Stephen Robinson about a woman whom the missionaries met while using the restroom in a bar (or getting drinks or something). The woman was not someone they were seeking out but she sensed something about them and followed them and eventually became baptized. She would accidentally swear in church and then immediately apologize for her roughness. That is her all. That is enough. That moment is when the Atonement of Christ immediately becomes effective. And cleansing. And sufficient.
I remember coming away from this story having been taught that the Atonement of Christ hinges upon where our heart is at any given moment. The Atonement of Christ reaches in to compensate at the moment we say, "This is all I have to give, but I am trying and I really want to be like thee! I really want to hope that you are offering what I think you are offering and I am trying." It doesn't matter if for years we have given of our time and energy to the kingdom of God in this Church and turn our backs on it at the end. It doesn't matter if we've given more than so and so in tithing or worked longer and harder than someone at serving in the Church.
What matters is what does our offering represent.
For Bethany, coming to church on Sunday represents her all. For me, life can be super challenging some weeks and easier others. Some days I can happily reach out and serve others. Other days it is painful to try and reach out because sometimes rejection and disinterest is just, well, painful. Some days I wake up excited to do all the ideas in my head. Other days I lay in bed struggling to get up, discouraged by all the things I either did wrong the day before or by the things that Satan is telling me I should be doing and am not.
I just love this parable because it finally puts to rest in my mind a scripture I have struggled with for years:
Mosiah 4:27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and aorder; for it is not requisite that a man should run bfaster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.
I always felt that "my all" meant that I felt drained at the end of the day. Now I know that it just means that I feel peace. I checked in with God, honestly tried to do my best (and I don't have to be frantic about it!) and that His Atonement steps in to compensate, heal, fix, mend, restore, salve, enliven and amend not only for all that I do wrong, but even makes those things I do right sacred. But it is Him that makes it that way. All because my offering represents that I am trusting Him and just genuinely desire to do His will.
That is enough.
That is my all.
For those who feel broken or breaking, I hope we can all see ourselves as Bethany, that we can acknowledge all the ways that we are just trying.
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