I would be remiss (especially after reading the admonition of the Savior to record sacred things as found in 3 Nephi 27) if I didn’t record the miraculous happenings of the “Madhouse” play this weekend. So very many things go wrong…equipment failure (from sound system overlap to the darn cans of spray paint), shipping problems (the critical deer portrait not arriving in time and having to do some last minute running around), scheduling issues with families that both they and I didn’t realize until the end…but so very many things go right. Just because we are doing the work of the Lord, doesn’t mean that the path will be easy. No example in the scriptures would validate this. Every situation that comes to mind is rife with doubt, complications and outright heart-breaking moments. Hannah and her son; Daniel and the lion’s den; Nephi and his brothers; Abinadi, Moses, Abraham….the list goes on.
(from a post of my mom's)
But this morning, as I lay in bed, unable to sleep, I started reviewing scriptures that I have memorized and one floated to the surface in a different light, illuminated by the context of my life right now: Isaiah 41, think…it’s the last verse in 40 or 41, I think. But anyway, it basically goes like, “and they that wait upon the Lord shall rise up on their wings as eagles. And they shall run and not be weary and walk and not faint.” I thought it meant to wait for the Lord, as in be patient. But maybe it also means the serving kind of “wait.” I am anxiously engaged in some super amazingly good causes. I also am mindful of the “it is not requisite that you run faster than you are able”...which means sleep! But we shall be able to run and not be weary…and walk and not faint, meaning those times when we need to slow down, we will not be lost. I was grateful for this reminder and different way of looking at it. I know that my God is an awesome God and that He truly will honor all of the words that He has sent and continues to send through the mouths of His servants, from prophets to babes, through the Holy Ghost and the scriptures.
Some images from the play (courtesy of Beth Flick, owner of BFlick Photography https://www.facebook.com/bflickphotography )
Sometimes I have a hard time having underlying hope. Mentally and momentarily, yes, I can step into a hopeful space. But lately I've been really trying to pay attention to things that can teach me to hope more consistently.
When I read this scripture this morning, something occurred to me, a scripture that has echoes in other books of scripture:
"36 Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.
37 Behold the wounds which pierced my side, and also the prints of the nails in my hands and feet."
(Doctrine and Covenants, section 6)
It stuck out to me that the Lord would put the idea of "hope" right next to references to His crucifixion. Then it occurred to me. Jesus Christ experienced the most brutal, painful unimaginable scenario ever:
--betrayal of not only His nation but His friends;
-- taking upon Himself the redemptive task of not only experiencing all of our sufferings, but paying the price of every sin ever committed
-- hanging upon the cross in one of the most excruciating forms of execution...
... and then He rose again, with the releasing, redemption and succoring of billions. Shazaam!✨️💛
So when He tells me to trust Him, to hope, it's not from the inexperienced sideline of spectators. He's saying, "yeah, I know it's bad. But trust me, the end will be incredible. Just stay focused on Me. And keep hoping."
If anyone had reason to feel hopeless, it seems it would be Him, looking into that bleak future. But He wasn't. He demonstrated His awareness even on the cross, surrounded by hopelessness, that He could look forward to a bright end.
So I can trust Him. I love the hope that this perspective has renewed in my heart this morning. ♥️
What are things that bring you hope?
(This painting titled "Hope" by George Frederick Watts captures how fragile hope can feel.)
Here is the morning's cool collection of devotional finds...the focus? Being kind to ourselves. My heart ached for the journey of the first young man and was touched by the man singing with what looks like his kiddos about real questions and issues.
Maia shared a quote about art, "something that doesn't focus on recreating perfectly the exterior but rather capturing the significance of what is inside."
"Hello, dear friend. I recently read your post about leaving your older kids [all at once in various "transitioning to adult" phases].
"This transition is very challenging. I'm still reeling from it in many ways. This next school year more than half of my children will be mostly not living at home (college break/ holiday visits, etc being the exception).
"Yours has come all at once... definitely the proverbial 'ripping off the bandaid' scenario. I don't think I've ever recovered from my little Isaak's quick and unexpected departure from my home and each new transition still feels so real. I'm so very happy for my children, which makes these changes important. But perhaps this feels similar to what Eve felt leaving the garden...'is there no better way?'
"It reminds me of over of my favorite paintings, which hangs in the forefront of my living room, titled 'Better than Paradise,' by Kendal Ray
The missionaries visiting in our home last night reminded me of it as they discussed the Fall in what I feel was a negative light. My mind caught upon what I feel is a truth I believe: that Eve's choice to embrace mortality (with the pain and contrast so beautifully conveyed in this painting) was a courageous choice.
"It reminded me of how often I measure my choices by their idealistic outcomes-- too often by how 'pain free' they will be... because that means they're the 'right choice,' right?
"I have been diagnosed with severe clinical depression. My therapist suggests that the 'utopic' inner peace I seek as a summation of my choices may ever elude me in this life... and that this is the moment of faith: this choice to carry on, as Frodo did, when all other lights go out."
Pain is becoming something else-- almost a sacred opportunity to mourn with someone, to commune with them in the most sacred of spaces.
I still obsessively panic-avoid it on some levels... but I'm realizing more and more it's healthy role in the scheme of things.
Basically, there's no point you can get to that I won't want to be with you or know you.
You could become whatever worst version of yourself that you fear or feel you may become and I would want to be there with you, if you'd let me.
I will never intentionally push you away. I may misread your interactions with me to mean that you want distance and try to honor that (obviously, I'm not so great at that).
I know what it feels like to know that there's some point of becoming who you struggle not to be--some point you can reach where you're unlovable to those around you. 😔 it's a reality I live in.
I'd rather be messy individuals living life side by side than strangers behind walls... but I'm used to walls and super great at hurting people and making them want to build walls.
In some ways Polaroid is my song. Listened to it in the shower this morning…. So many ways I relate to the voice behind the words.
Even if love is often that Polaroid, better in pictures, God had taken me places that fill the void.
The other day, I missed my flight. A day later, I prayed. Here's what happened in the middle...
Today, I set aside time to just BE with my kids.
In the meanwhile, there is so much in my head. So much I've chosen to put into my life...I have just been plain overwhelmed lately. Even eliminating so much, I still find my self-doubt, criticism, lack of answers and mental health history just seem to sabotage the space I'm intentionally seeking to carve out for myself in my life. Self-sabotage, not trusting...it all came together in doing puzzles with my Penelope and Liesl this morning as God lovingly brought truths out during our "play":
*Sometimes I can't attach the piece I want to (that I pick out, I chose) because the other pieces aren't in place yet-I hate this lesson, honestly. Sometimes you just have to wait for that vision, that moment, because the timing around you--circumstances, personal readiness, other's readiness--is just not right. (Homeschooling groups in Medina NY comes to mind!)
*Sometimes need to take apart a set of pieces in my life that's put together already to attach it to the next set to it-sometimes you have to have a season of deconstruction to make room for what's coming next.
*Sometimes I have to move out of the way physically for a piece to be put into place-we need to be movable to create space for the changes we want.
*Sometimes it takes some rotating to fit something in..you're just turned around-again, sometimes the change needed isn't so much physically, but just how we see things.
*Getting frustrated often makes it harder-while this is self-explanatory, I found doing it with a volatile, yet sweet and intentional three and six year old brought this lesson to life more sweetly and clearly.
*Hyperfocusing on one piece often makes me miss the piece I actully need to put the whole puzzle together. Penelope did this several times, trying to fit the piece in her hand "that was super special" into a spot. It just wouldn't fit-those special blessings and dreams we seek sometimes just don't fit into that spot in our lives that we want them to. Too much idealism, hyperfocusing on what we thing should be happening in our lives or other's lives...can just lead to frustration.
*Can't see the place to put the piece because another piece is covering the spot. Penelope couldn't find where one of her pieces went because the rest of the pieces (symbolic of goals and dreams perhaps?) were all jumbled around and covering where it went-sometimes taking time out to clear out the jumble of ideas and potention in our lives and sort through it is important so we can find the place for pieces that come next.
*Often others help and put in large pieces of the puzzle-often God sets our puzzle piece space up like I do for my little ones so we can feel the satisfaction of putting that piece into place.
*And a lesson that stood out particularly at the end, sometimes we pick out puzzles that are too hard for us because we really, really, really want to do them.
These lessons and the flight experience made me reflect upon our crazy and miraculous week of Acting Camp. I truly felt God inspire me and sustaing me in what I could do and help me feel content with what I could not. I felt the freedom to take time for myself--applying some of my self-care practices. I saw God change the words in my mouth as I was speaking them as a mentor. It was just...incredible.
I felt God impress upon me the lessons learned that week and "suggest" that I could apply them to the bigger play that is my life, with all of it's seasons and scenes.
I started reading my friend's poetry dissertation last night. I couldn't sleep after settling into bed--thanks to a blessedly "necessary" late nap--and decided to pop open the document that had been sitting in my inbox for a couple of weeks. Whether it was the lateness of the hour, the quiet of the night which allowed my thoughts to feast uninterrupted, or the fabulous use of language my friend used in all her fabulously nerdy brilliance ("nerd" being one of the highest honorifics I can offer), I feel like the world shifted just a little. Or maybe came full circle.
My friend alluded that the life of the voice of the poem of Illiadic proportions was drawn from personal experiences. The rawness of the experiences and the messages laced throughout them gave me a look into a world that I have yet to understand. Imagine a world where "The Barbie Movie" meets The Boy and the Heron" and it just might capture that same feeling of....something. Maybe a truth (or a million!) that are beautiful and big and yet just out of reach...
Before diving into my exploration of my reactions to the as of now not-completely-read-150-page-some-odd poem, I have to clearly state that this is not meant to be interpretive of what I feel is almost a sacred work--merely reactive in the sense that I feel I need to work through my initial reaction through writing. Please indulge me using this platform, although maybe no indulgence is required as this is a self-proclaimed blog following my journey to life found in truth.
The poem itself is very narrative, in the sense that it captures life experiences and perspectives (and her reactions to both) in a very personal way. You are drawn into Emily's world--seeing, feeling, thinking as she does. In one sense my initial reaction is sad. I mourn for Emily and her self-dubbed quasi-gothic existence. But even in taking the liberty of using the word "quasi-gothic," I stumble across one of the many often quixotic ideas that have floated to the surface of my musings: labels.
Okay, quick poll:
Do you like labels? Why or why not? Are they defining or confining?
Are they inclusive or exclusive?
Are the helpful in identifying? Are they worth the potential condemning side effect?
Are they a shade of finding what is common between us, the same commonality that helps us make connections that last? Do those shades come back to haunt us?
SO many of Emily's experiences resonate with me: social shaming, seeing the world around you differently than others do. But unlike me, she calls out those differences she sees without worrying about couching it in gentle or tactful terms. Which is appropriate. It's introspective. It's her permission to get a glimpse into how she sees the world mingled with a little context--for who can truly understand the context of another's perspective, save God? She encounters labels as she progresses. Labels she attaches to herself and labels she attaches to others, even while crying out against unfairness, arbitrariness and insufficiency of labeling.
And interestingly, as she probes behind the labels, I find myself once again labeled. Labeled for how I am seeing living my religion, living my womanhood,...even my goals and perspective are seen through a lens of messy labeling. My dear friend would be the first to say whether or not it was not her intention to do so--being the fabulously real, brilliant, and genuine person that she is. (And it could be "tongue in cheek," a phrase that popped into my mind as potentially fitting but which I had to look up to make sure lol.) It is just so interesting that in seeking to define, qualify and validate our own lives that it seems that we push the people around us and even ourselves into these messy partially false, partially true labels. From the outside they seem to fit, but they don't capture the journey or frame of reference of choices that lie within the picture we see of other people's lives. She introduces new levels of labeling that I didn't even know existed.
My dear friend is one who--to me--defies labels consistently. In fact, it is one of the many qualities of her that I find endearing. Yet, in reading this poem about Emily, I see a tiny glimpse into her personal journey of discovering truths--about herself, God, herself, society, herself, existence itself and (you guessed it) herself. I find that she--in seeming to defy so many labels--has actually seemed to find labels that I didn't even know existed that define who she sees herself to be. I don't even pretend to have any kind of accurate assessment of this work of art my friend generated as her doctoral poetic thesis. What I do find is myself responding to is assessing labels in my own life.
I have experienced some of the predatory aspects of society that she experienced. I experienced the harshness of those around me who try to determine which labels were acceptable and which were not. I could recognize on one level that I was unique, as I sensed were those inexplicable fellow journeyers around me. I even captured my--and perhaps many others--inner cry of resistance at a young age writing this poem in first grade:
I'm glad to be free
That's all I want to be
Just free.
And I am glad
That I am me.
I used to just assume it was patriotic, but after reading this poem, I wonder if even at that age I was crying out against the people seeking to label me all around me. "Does she fit in?" "Does she do this?" "Does she wear that?" "Does she act this way?" Judgment made. Sentenced passed. Gavel dropped. Moving on.
One thing that I have recently striven to do is to steer clear of labels entirely--both those put upon others and those through which I am seen. I have sought to be authentic and in doing so, find myself still heavily labeled. Is avoidance of labels possible?
Is it necessary?
Are they bad?
Perhaps, like money, it is the use (or misuse) that renders it evil?
Do not we seek these labels to find context and possible meaning in our existence? What would it be to not be labeled? I feel like using labels is like committing to a political party: there are some platforms you heartily agree with but do you really have to take on the baggage of all those appalling behaviors of that party as well?
I hate labels. Or do I?
As I child, people used labels both to hate and accept me. I was part of the "nerd herd." I was a girl and therefore had to champion my own right be able to play sports "with the boys." I had glasses that leaned outward. I never knew what to say, when to say it, when to be quiet,...seeking always to navigate between the labels around me.
Because one thing I knew about labels is that they can hurt.
That is something that was brought up as I read Emily's story: pain. Pain, loss, yearning to be seen for the authentically beautiful person she was in her heart.
I am discovering now that I, too, am authentically beautiful. God taught me that in showing me the humans around me. Every one of you is authentically beautiful. Moroni 7:48. Read it, use it, apply it. Not in some generic kind of "step back and not judge" kind of way. Really take a moment to let God show you the wonder that is the people around you, the heroes championing themselves through the pain.
But be forewarned, He will turn that cliche upon you: "if you are pointing with one finger, chances are that there are three fingers pointed back at you." If the people around you are so beautifully broken and loveable as they are now, does that not apply to you as well?
And I've sought to live this way, authentically. Acting on what feels good to me. Always striving to keep God with me in the mix--counseling with Him in all things, but then acting in ways that feel true to truth. Patterns that will cut through the lies.
And what do I find in the voice of Emily, the shadow of my dear, labeled, heroic, suffering, triumph-ing friend?
I am behind more labels as I become aware of them--labels that are incomplete as they are confining if we let them be. Sigh.
But do we not create our own labels as we seek to find companionship and validation with those who share experiences and perspectives? And in seeking to identify that common ground, do we not define at the same time a valid "label" of commonality?
Apparently, "full circle" can mean that the wheels keep turning... back to the beginning?
Or changed by the journey from point A to point B and back to point A again?
Thank you my friend--beautiful on the outside and radiant from within. 🧡
"Joy is much more than the absence of discomfort,"(Elantris, by Brandon Sanderson) a concept powerfully expressed in this book.
Yet how often have I made this mistake? "I'm feeling something uncomfortable-- pain, disappointment, fear--, therefore, I can't have joy."
This struggle to comprehend the opportunities for joy that already exist in my life amidst the "discomfort" is captured and challenged in my recently revisited mantra from last year:
Philippians 4:11"...I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.
12 "I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
13 "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."
I tap the two wires together to start up our old computer. Whirrrr...the struggling motor whirs up so I can capture some thoughts this morning. That, along with the following pictures, give a little context for the pattern of this morning (and my recent life):
Our in desperate need of fixing washer and dryer...with a little "Penelope looking for her favorite coloring book" in for good measure.
An animal really enjoyed the trash someone forgot to take to the garbage bins last night.
The dinner I accidentally forgot I needed to take care of last night...with a splash of the discounted flowers I picked up, because I love flowers!
The last of the 2/3 gallon of water mess I spilled in the fridge and on the floor this morning, which ended up helping clean spots much neglected ;).
Do you ever feel like every time you show up to make something happen or try to get something good done, everything seems to start falling apart? Yesterday, it was with every motorized thing I touched to help with the yard work: the lawn mower and the weed whacker. Later it was the movies we tried to watch, the storm that showed up when I was prepping to swim with the kiddos,...and so on and so on.
I was talking with a friend recently about the struggles that returned missionaries seem to consistently face. At one point, they said, "I think it's just the adversary."
(Now, I'm not saying that the devil was behind me dropping my water pitcher this morning. I'm just saying that maybe there's something behind those times when everything seems to be going wrong--and often when we have determined to set our best foot forward and do what's right. Or maybe we have been doing a lot of right, and are confused when there seems to still be momentous obstacles in our path.)
Going back to my conversation with my friend:
I've been thinking about this-- this consistent struggle after a mission.
You said the adversary was possibly behind it. I thought about that and something occurred to me: what if it's similar to Job?
God gives missionaries a chance to really serve Him, immerse themselves in His work, taste of His goodness and mercy. Then Satan "comes along" and tells God to "give him a chance":
Job 1:8 And the Lord said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?
9 Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, Doth Job fear God for nought?
10 Hast not thou made an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on every side? thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land.
11 But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face.
12 And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand. So Satan went forth from the presence of the Lord.
For two years, they have a "hedge" around them, been consecrated as a missionary with all the protecting covenants/ blessings/powers in place...
... and maybe now that hedge has been removed?"
I often get locked into "transactional relationship" mode: if I obey God, I should be blessed and not experience hardship. If I love and serve someone, they should love and serve me back. And yes, sometimes things just go wrong...part of this mortal experience.
But there are sure times when it feels like so much just seems to go wrong, and the go wrong again, and then go wrong again! Where is God in all of this?
Maybe Job's experience is telling and maybe God is just asking, "do you really love Me and want to be like Me? Even when I don't give you the proverbial sucker for 'getting the shot' of mortal reality?"
******
As I walked home the other night--retrieving the keys for the van that was stranded on the side of a back road with relatively new tires and a slow leak in one of them--I saw the magic. That van situation had thrown a wrench into my entire evening, but it had worked out. And now? Little lightning bugs lit up the road and trees like Christmas lights. I heard an owl hooting gently in the distance. The half moon overhead strew beautiful shadows across the dirt road in front of me...and I felt peace.
I know that in the middle of all the garbage, as we turn our face to God and say, "Even if....give me the strength to sing, It is well with my soul" we will see the twinkle lights:
-my fridge is cleaner
-I get to laugh at my three-year-old's antics...and be grateful for when my laundry machine does work...and that I even have one!
-I have a child who is responsible for the garbage and will take care of that ;).
-My dinner is getting done!
-And because my van was uncertain, we cancelled plans that gave us a little breathing space to work on some jobs around the house that I was itching to get to.
I know, first world problems--but sometimes it's the figurative build up of little bugs on the windshield that can really end up obstructing the road to happiness.
I also keep thinking, "It could be oh, so much worse." I've experienced so much of that worse and have still found God's love and collateral beauty in those times. I just need to keep looking.
Hey! Super cool epiphany (and it's super cool that the epiphany is exciting; God's ways are mysterious!): I'm a narcissist! God has really shown me how much like my little Xai that I am--sweet heart, but seriously a little obsessed with both my own ideas (case in point, how much I download everywhere!), but also with avoiding pain. But it feels super hopeful and wonderful! Like a piece of the puzzle has been slid into place...a healthy place.
And then I opened up to Jacob 4:7 this morning: God shows us our weaknesses that we may know that it is by His power and grace etc that we have power. Seeing myself in the context of Xai and a friend's recent divorce and her reasons why, and then seeing them both through the benevolent lens of narcissists from a recent Brene Brown book I read is super cool! (Basically, narcissists operate out of a place of pain and trauma.) Exciting, humbling in such a good way. Jacob 4:10: seek not to counsel the Lord but to take counsel from his hand...ye know that he counseleth in wisdom....and in great mercy.
I had been reflecting upon a few things. Xai is super obsessed with avoiding pain. I can see that in myself. Even the lengths I will go to to avoid future pain. Many of the obsessive ways that I do things is to minimize the pain that I might feel…kind of symbolized by how I go after a sliver. I know it will hurt more in the long run so I dig deep and fast and hard, sometimes perhaps inflicting more pain than my child would experience in the long run. Okay, maybe I’m not quite that militaristic about it, but maybe as a real life analogy I am, sadly. How much pain do I inflict, operating out of fear of future pain?
Xai is also full of great ideas–that he can’t wait to share with everyone around him. He has a hard time listening to others he is so full of his own ideas. He also has a super sweet heart. SO I can see these both in me. I have no bad intent. I’m just a little hyper aware of my own thoughts and am super excited about them and share, share, share! I’m not completely unaware of those around me. I have become increasingly aware of it over the years and through experiences. In fact, I feel like one collateral beauty of the horrible experience with Isaak really made me start thinking of other people, the pain they feel, and the redemptive power of the Atonement to reach all of us, thereby minimizing any tendency towards comparative quality in my worship and worthiness with those around me.
I have also thought about my friend’s recent sharing about her divorce with her husband, how she felt like for years and years she was not appreciated. She gave and gave and gave and just never felt like her husband was interested in filling her cup. And when it seemed like they needed to do something, it was like he had given up and that “she wasn’t even worth trying for.” Now, this is just the lens of interpretation through which I heard her and definitely did not accurately represent her since I can’t know of her experience and the range of experiences and emotions that led her to the place. But what I took away from it is it is easy for us as woman to seek for love through our service, a toxic ulterior motive. We serve and serve and serve some more. Yes, because it is right, but also because we hope that in doing so, we will fill our cups of feelings of worthiness or “lovability.” At least, that is what I have experienced. My husband is not the villain or disinterested party in my heart that I sometimes paint him to be. Bless his resilient heart, he will never be enough to offset the voices in my head. No one will be. As long as I’m strongly advocating for my unworthiness and “unlovability,” the internal voice will be stronger, just as those things up close to our vision are always larger than those at any greater distance. And maybe our poor husbands can sense this. Or spouse…maybe it is something anyone can do?
Quinn came into our marriage just enjoying me. I did also to a degree, but over the years have sought for more and more, like the Aerial of “Little Mermaid” and “The Greatest Showman.”
But this epiphany has been a truly humbling experience but also very exciting. This is something I can do. And it feels right.
Cool talk I "coincidentally" came across this morning:
Of course, we all have some habits or flaws or personal history that could keep us from complete spiritual immersion in this work. But God is our Father and is exceptionally good at forgiving and forgetting sins we have forsaken, perhaps because we give Him so much practice in doing so. In any case, there is divine help for every one of us at any hour we feel to make a change in our behavior. -- Elder Holland, 10/21
I used to think that one factor-- themainfactor-- facing Eve (garden of Eden), Nephi (Laban), Joseph Smith (116 pages) and Mary mother of our Savior (immaculate conception) was the idea of shame in being seen as doing the wrong thing when you know in your core that you are doing what God wants you to do.
I wonder if the challenge for them in facing their decision was also (and moreso?) the pain they feared to cause the ones they loved... the ones who might not understand what they did and that it was indeed God who had told them to do it.
But as gods and goddesses ourselves, will not often the higher right be the one that is least understood and seems to cause unnecessary pain?
The whole plan of salvation seems to pivot on the allowance and even embracing of the potential pain that comes with, right choices, growth and learning. (Bury our weapons of war or take them up in our defense?)
Yet we often seek that less painful path as a default, facing that conundrum of "men are that they might have joy."
I guess joy doesn't always mean an absence of pain.
***
Regardless, we will never go out of existence.
The sun always rises after the pain.
We can only feel it, though, if we turn our faces to the Son.
I have recently really been struggling to have faith and hope despite all the crazy awesome blessings I have and it was frustrating! Then I ran across a scripture in Moroni and I have become a little obsessed with meekness, lol. God tells us there that we cannot have faith and hope without meekness. Weird. So I can't have faith and hope unless I'm meek? Wait! So did that mean I was being prideful and that was why I didn't have faith or hope? I don't believe this is always the root of sadness, for sure! But it sure has been something of an immediate cause of effect in my life.
So I did what's called a "word study" on meekness, where you gather cool quotes and scriptures about it, and I thought I would share it with you. I would love to hear any thoughts you may have about it!
MEEKNESS: Softness of temper; mildness; gentleness; forbearance under injuries and provocations.
Matthew 11:29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
Number 12:3 (Now the man Moses was very ameek, above all the men which were upon the face of the earth.)
Moroni 7: 43 And again, behold I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be ameek, and lowly of heart.
“The Savior’s meekness and perfect walk before all mankind, “even in those times of severe persecutions and abuse which were heaped upon Him by a wicked and adulterous generation,” qualify Him as the perfect teacher from whom we are to learn the lessons of eternity…
Meekness is not weak, timid, or passive. Meekness is the quality of being God-fearing, righteous, teachable, patient in suffering, and willing to follow gospel teachings. A meek person is not easily provoked or irritated, pretentious, arrogant, or overbearing. Whereas humility generally denotes acknowledging dependence upon God and receptivity to counsel and correction, a distinguishing characteristic of meekness is a particular willingness to learn both from the Holy Ghost and from other people who may seem less experienced or capable, may not hold prominent positions, or otherwise may not appear to have much to contribute.” (Elder Bednar, “Walk in the Meekness of my Spirit,” 2017)
Neal Maxwell of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: Meekness is needed in order for us to be spiritually successful—whether in matters of the intellect, in the management of power, in the dissolution of personal pride, or in coping with the challenges and routine of life. With meekness, living in “thanksgiving daily” is actually possible even in life’s stern seasons. (BYU Speeches, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles October 21, 1986)
Personal definition: Meekness is powerful, God-centered self-control, which not only helps me control myself, but also gives fertile ground for the birth of faith and hope.
Personal application: I want to have hope and faith in my life. To do so requires meekness, which is “the dissolution of pride” and I’ve already felt the fruits in my life. I have also seen it be powerfully applied in the lives of others and am excited to apply it more! When in doubt, seek to be meek!
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