"Don't judge me because I sin differently than you." -- Bumper sticker
Who knew that such wisdom could be found on a bumper sticker?
Only one perfect Person lived on this earth. The Savior. The rest of us have sins. I have more than my share. Fortunately (or unfortunately), mine are more easily hidden than others.
Let's start with the plus side: I don't lie. I don't steal. I don't commit adultery. Congratulations, Jane. Aren't you wonderful?
Now let's look at the flip side. I harbor grudges. I envy others their good fortune. I gossip about others. I judge those whose values and mores don't match my own.
None of my "pluses" give me the right to judge others. Still, I do. I'm weak. I'm mortal. I'm human.
This I know for sure: judging others won't earn me a place in heaven ... or even happiness here on earth.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Day 93, April 6
"We are sowing, daily sowing
Countless seeds of good and ill,
Scattered on the level lowland
Cast upon the windy hill;
Seeds that sink in rich brown furrows,
Soft with heaven's gracious rain,
Seeds that rest upon the surface
Of the dry, unyielding plain."--Anonymous
This hymn never fails to elicit a response in me. The idea that we are always sowing some kind of seed is both humbling and terrifying. What kind of seeds am I sowing?
I discovered the other day that I was sowing seeds of gossip. These are destructive seeds, serving no purpose except, perhaps, that of helping me feel better about myself as I put someone else down.
Any time I compare my home, my talents, my family, or anything to that of someone else, I am sowing seeds of discontent within myself. What a tragic waste of time.
"Thou who knowest all our weakness,
Leave us not to sow alone!
Bid thine angels guard the furrows
Where the precious grain is sown,
Till the fields are crowned with glory,
Filled with mellow, ripened ears,
Filled with fruit of life eternal
From the seed we sowed in tears."
This I know for sure: the seeds I sow today will come back to reward ... or to chastize ... me tomorrow.
Countless seeds of good and ill,
Scattered on the level lowland
Cast upon the windy hill;
Seeds that sink in rich brown furrows,
Soft with heaven's gracious rain,
Seeds that rest upon the surface
Of the dry, unyielding plain."--Anonymous
This hymn never fails to elicit a response in me. The idea that we are always sowing some kind of seed is both humbling and terrifying. What kind of seeds am I sowing?
I discovered the other day that I was sowing seeds of gossip. These are destructive seeds, serving no purpose except, perhaps, that of helping me feel better about myself as I put someone else down.
Any time I compare my home, my talents, my family, or anything to that of someone else, I am sowing seeds of discontent within myself. What a tragic waste of time.
"Thou who knowest all our weakness,
Leave us not to sow alone!
Bid thine angels guard the furrows
Where the precious grain is sown,
Till the fields are crowned with glory,
Filled with mellow, ripened ears,
Filled with fruit of life eternal
From the seed we sowed in tears."
This I know for sure: the seeds I sow today will come back to reward ... or to chastize ... me tomorrow.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Day 92, April 5
A few days ago, I had a lesson in humiliation. As are many of life's important's lessons, this was a small incident, but its effect on me was powerful.
Since surgery, I have been wearing white support stockings. (Yes, they look as hideous as they sound.) Thigh-high, they take some doing to get on. And off.
Usually, my husband helps me. But on one afternoon, when I was home alone, I longed for a shower. I removed the left stocking, but struggled to get the right one off. As part of my post-surgery instructions, I am not supposed to bend from the waist. I worked and worked to get the stocking down my leg and finally succeeded in getting it to my ankle.
I couldn't coax the stocking any further. It flopped around my foot, making my already cumbersome walking even more so. Still, I persisted. I thought about calling my husband, begging him to come home and get the wretched thing off me. And, embarrassing as it would be, I could also call any number of friends who had offered their help. I resisted. Surely a fairly intelligent woman could figure out a way to take off a stocking.
We (the stocking and I) continued our battle of wills. Frustrated, I tried to kick it off. I could have fallen and easily damaged my new hip. While I was hopping around on one foot, it occurred to me that maybe I could stand on the loose end of the stocking and pull it off that way.
At last. Success.
What was my lesson? Don't be afraid to ask for help. I could have saved myself considerable time and frustration if I'd swallowed my pride and embarrassment if I had done just that. But, no, I had to do it myself.
This I know for sure: asking for help doesn't make me weak. Sometimes, it just makes me smart.
Since surgery, I have been wearing white support stockings. (Yes, they look as hideous as they sound.) Thigh-high, they take some doing to get on. And off.
Usually, my husband helps me. But on one afternoon, when I was home alone, I longed for a shower. I removed the left stocking, but struggled to get the right one off. As part of my post-surgery instructions, I am not supposed to bend from the waist. I worked and worked to get the stocking down my leg and finally succeeded in getting it to my ankle.
I couldn't coax the stocking any further. It flopped around my foot, making my already cumbersome walking even more so. Still, I persisted. I thought about calling my husband, begging him to come home and get the wretched thing off me. And, embarrassing as it would be, I could also call any number of friends who had offered their help. I resisted. Surely a fairly intelligent woman could figure out a way to take off a stocking.
We (the stocking and I) continued our battle of wills. Frustrated, I tried to kick it off. I could have fallen and easily damaged my new hip. While I was hopping around on one foot, it occurred to me that maybe I could stand on the loose end of the stocking and pull it off that way.
At last. Success.
What was my lesson? Don't be afraid to ask for help. I could have saved myself considerable time and frustration if I'd swallowed my pride and embarrassment if I had done just that. But, no, I had to do it myself.
This I know for sure: asking for help doesn't make me weak. Sometimes, it just makes me smart.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Day 91, April 4
"You can't be right when you're doing wrong. You can't be wrong when you're doing right."--Thomas S. Monson, Prophet and President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
What a simple but powerful formula for righteous living. As always, President Monson says much in a few carefully chosen words.
Many self-help books have been written, giving us magic elixirs for happiness. While I respect the time and effort it took to pen these books, I wonder if the readers would find their time better spent "doing right" and reaping the happiness that comes from that.
Ancient scripture tells us that "wickedness never was happiness." Again, a powerful message presented in a few words.
This I know for sure: when I am doing right, I am on the path to happiness. When I am doing wrong, I am on no path at all.
What a simple but powerful formula for righteous living. As always, President Monson says much in a few carefully chosen words.
Many self-help books have been written, giving us magic elixirs for happiness. While I respect the time and effort it took to pen these books, I wonder if the readers would find their time better spent "doing right" and reaping the happiness that comes from that.
Ancient scripture tells us that "wickedness never was happiness." Again, a powerful message presented in a few words.
This I know for sure: when I am doing right, I am on the path to happiness. When I am doing wrong, I am on no path at all.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Day 90, April 3
A few days ago, my husband and I took a pie to a friend who was going through a difficult time. (Alas, it wasn't homemade. Homemade pies are not my style.) However, we did take the time to pick out our friend's favorite flavor.
When we returned home, we found a basket hanging on our front door. Inside were beautifully decorated cookies--from our friend. (They were homemade.)
While we had been thinking about her, she had been doing the same. Coincidence? I don't think so. I think the Spirit touched our hearts, as it did hers. Certainly, pies and cookies aren't the only way to show love. They are symbols. Remembrances. Pieces of our hearts given freely.
This I know for sure: if I look beyond a seeming coincidence, I will frequently find the acts of angels.
When we returned home, we found a basket hanging on our front door. Inside were beautifully decorated cookies--from our friend. (They were homemade.)
While we had been thinking about her, she had been doing the same. Coincidence? I don't think so. I think the Spirit touched our hearts, as it did hers. Certainly, pies and cookies aren't the only way to show love. They are symbols. Remembrances. Pieces of our hearts given freely.
This I know for sure: if I look beyond a seeming coincidence, I will frequently find the acts of angels.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Day 89, April 2
"Two are better than one--if one falls down, his friend can help him up." Ecclesiastes 4: 9 - 10
A card containing this scripture accompanied a bouquet of flowers that a friend brought to me yesterday. It touched my heart. Perhaps because I am currently unsteady on my feet. Perhaps because I am also unsteady in my resolve to do what's right.
Whatever the reason, the words found a place in my thoughts. How often do I rely on my friends, my family? Every minute. Every hour. Every day.
In my present condition, can I lift a friend up if he falls? Maybe. If I'm looking. If I'm aware. If I think of someone besides myself.
These appear simple things. Look with my eyes. Use my mind ,.. and heart ... to determine a need. And, finally, think outside myself.
This I know for sure: life is hard; helping others up when they fall--and allowing them to help us up as well--is the only way we will get through it.
A card containing this scripture accompanied a bouquet of flowers that a friend brought to me yesterday. It touched my heart. Perhaps because I am currently unsteady on my feet. Perhaps because I am also unsteady in my resolve to do what's right.
Whatever the reason, the words found a place in my thoughts. How often do I rely on my friends, my family? Every minute. Every hour. Every day.
In my present condition, can I lift a friend up if he falls? Maybe. If I'm looking. If I'm aware. If I think of someone besides myself.
These appear simple things. Look with my eyes. Use my mind ,.. and heart ... to determine a need. And, finally, think outside myself.
This I know for sure: life is hard; helping others up when they fall--and allowing them to help us up as well--is the only way we will get through it.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Day 88, April 1
A Primary song teaches, "Follow the Prophet, follow the Prophet, follow the Prophet; don't go astray. Follow the Prophet, follow the Prophet, follow the Prophet; He knows the way."
Apologies to those who are wearied by hearing of Primary stories and songs. The fact is, they play a large part in my life. This song comes to mind on this weekend where our church holds General Conference when the Prophet and other leaders speak to us.
Whether you are Mormon (as I am) or not, our Prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, has something to say to you, something to help you live your life better.
The Prophet does not speak about esoteric things. Instead, he talks of the small and simple things that bring happiness and wisdom. His stories resonate with me for precisely that reason. He knows what matters ... and what doesn't.
Despite my best attempts, I spend too much time focusing on things that don't matter. An unvacuumed carpet doesn't matter. (Nor does a vacuumed carpet.) Dust on the furniture doesn't matter. A perceived slight does not matter.
What does matter?
That varies for each of us. For me, it is, and will always be, friends, family, and faith. If those are in sync, then the rest of my life falls in to place as well.
This I know for sure: if I follow the Prophet, I won't go astray.
Apologies to those who are wearied by hearing of Primary stories and songs. The fact is, they play a large part in my life. This song comes to mind on this weekend where our church holds General Conference when the Prophet and other leaders speak to us.
Whether you are Mormon (as I am) or not, our Prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, has something to say to you, something to help you live your life better.
The Prophet does not speak about esoteric things. Instead, he talks of the small and simple things that bring happiness and wisdom. His stories resonate with me for precisely that reason. He knows what matters ... and what doesn't.
Despite my best attempts, I spend too much time focusing on things that don't matter. An unvacuumed carpet doesn't matter. (Nor does a vacuumed carpet.) Dust on the furniture doesn't matter. A perceived slight does not matter.
What does matter?
That varies for each of us. For me, it is, and will always be, friends, family, and faith. If those are in sync, then the rest of my life falls in to place as well.
This I know for sure: if I follow the Prophet, I won't go astray.
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