I have never had the gift of speech. Like Moses, I lack that ability to touch hearts with my verbal words. Moses relied upon his brother Aaron to help him get his words across. Moses relied on others to help bring the children of Israel out of bondage. He turned to his captains to organize and prepare the people. He turned to his wife to care for their children while he was doing the things appointed to him by the Lord.
And isn't that the way with most of us? We rely on others for the things in which we are lacking, in the things which we cannot do by ourselves. I rely on my husband, my sister, my children, my friends. Most of all, I rely on the Lord.
Moses had an onerous task placed upon him. He did not do it alone. If Moses, one of the noble and great ones, needed help, why should I be ashamed to admit that I, too, need help? I need help in overcoming bad habits. I need help in learning to forgive. I need help in giving up those things which hurt me.
This I know for sure: seeking help is a mark of wisdom.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Day 282, October 13
"In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes an act of rebellion."--George Orwell
I have quoted Orwell before. His insight and wisdom are remarkable. How well he foretold what would happen to our great country. Too frequently, we see those inspired men and women who tell the truth being pilloried by those who seek to destroy our nation.
Scriptures are replete with examples of prophets and others who were persecuted, even killed, for having the audacity and courage to speak the truth. The spilling of their blood sanctified their sacrifice, and their martyrdom stands as an indictment against those who sought to silence their voices. Joan of Arc is one such example. The Prophet Joseph Smith is another, giving everything, including his life, in an effort to bring the world the truth of the Gospel.
On a less grand scale, we witness the same pattern in our personal lives. Six months ago, I wrote about the hate mail my husband and I received after our letters to the editor appeared in the local paper. Such was the vitriol and implied threat in this letter that, for a while, I hesitated about submitting any more letters. I am deeply ashamed of that. Was I afraid of telling the truth?
Yes.
And sometimes I still am. Still, something inside of me compels me to speak out when I see the effects that injustice has upon our society and nation.
This I know for sure: if telling the truth is an act of rebellion, then let me lead the charge.
I have quoted Orwell before. His insight and wisdom are remarkable. How well he foretold what would happen to our great country. Too frequently, we see those inspired men and women who tell the truth being pilloried by those who seek to destroy our nation.
Scriptures are replete with examples of prophets and others who were persecuted, even killed, for having the audacity and courage to speak the truth. The spilling of their blood sanctified their sacrifice, and their martyrdom stands as an indictment against those who sought to silence their voices. Joan of Arc is one such example. The Prophet Joseph Smith is another, giving everything, including his life, in an effort to bring the world the truth of the Gospel.
On a less grand scale, we witness the same pattern in our personal lives. Six months ago, I wrote about the hate mail my husband and I received after our letters to the editor appeared in the local paper. Such was the vitriol and implied threat in this letter that, for a while, I hesitated about submitting any more letters. I am deeply ashamed of that. Was I afraid of telling the truth?
Yes.
And sometimes I still am. Still, something inside of me compels me to speak out when I see the effects that injustice has upon our society and nation.
This I know for sure: if telling the truth is an act of rebellion, then let me lead the charge.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Day 281, October 12
Over the years I have used the excuse "I don't have time" to do -------- (fill in the blank). That excuse seemed viable until I looked at others who did have time to do what needed to be done.
Now, when my time is more available, I have another excuse prepared: "I'm too old"or "too tired" to do ----------. Once again, that excuse seems acceptable until I observe those with many years on me still serving, still working, still doing.
And, as I observe these servers, these workers, these doers, I notice something else. Inevitably, they are happier than those who sit on their rumps and plead lack of time, lack of energy, lack of talent.
This I know for sure: Benjamin Franklin was right when he said "those who are good at making excuses are seldom good for anything else."
Now, when my time is more available, I have another excuse prepared: "I'm too old"or "too tired" to do ----------. Once again, that excuse seems acceptable until I observe those with many years on me still serving, still working, still doing.
And, as I observe these servers, these workers, these doers, I notice something else. Inevitably, they are happier than those who sit on their rumps and plead lack of time, lack of energy, lack of talent.
This I know for sure: Benjamin Franklin was right when he said "those who are good at making excuses are seldom good for anything else."
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Day 280, October 11
"I don't ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a misty morning. There they are, and they are beautiful."-- Pete Hamill
In our high tech world, we tend to look for the whys and the hows. We want to know why something happens, how it works. We want to know the mechanics of it; we want to figure it out. Less often, though, do we seek to simply accept it.
I try to walk every morning. Our Colorado scenery is worthy of any painting by the Great Masters. The vibrancy of autumn, gaudy with colors that only God can create, surrounds me. And, for those few minutes, I simply accept. I accept the beauty of the turning of the leaves. I accept the bite of the crisp air. I accept the faint aroma of a wood-burning stove.
Left behind are my computer, the television, the cell phone, and all the other trappings of modern life which we feel necessary for survival. There is only me and a quiet wonder in our world.
This I know for sure: without this wonder, we are in danger of losing ourselves.
In our high tech world, we tend to look for the whys and the hows. We want to know why something happens, how it works. We want to know the mechanics of it; we want to figure it out. Less often, though, do we seek to simply accept it.
I try to walk every morning. Our Colorado scenery is worthy of any painting by the Great Masters. The vibrancy of autumn, gaudy with colors that only God can create, surrounds me. And, for those few minutes, I simply accept. I accept the beauty of the turning of the leaves. I accept the bite of the crisp air. I accept the faint aroma of a wood-burning stove.
Left behind are my computer, the television, the cell phone, and all the other trappings of modern life which we feel necessary for survival. There is only me and a quiet wonder in our world.
This I know for sure: without this wonder, we are in danger of losing ourselves.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Day 279, October 10
Yesterday I wrote about grace. As so frequently happens, it appears I am not finished with the subject.
Where do we find grace? When do we find it? Can we consciously look for it, or does it appear unbidden? I don't have those answers. I wish I did.
However, I know when I feel grace. And perhaps that is all that is needed.
I feel grace when I take the Sacrament of the Lord on Sunday. I feel grace when the Spirit moves me to give of myself on behalf of another. I feel grace when the Savior allows me to know that He approves my efforts.
This I know for sure: grace is available to all; our job is to find the humility... and wisdom ... to accept it.
Where do we find grace? When do we find it? Can we consciously look for it, or does it appear unbidden? I don't have those answers. I wish I did.
However, I know when I feel grace. And perhaps that is all that is needed.
I feel grace when I take the Sacrament of the Lord on Sunday. I feel grace when the Spirit moves me to give of myself on behalf of another. I feel grace when the Savior allows me to know that He approves my efforts.
This I know for sure: grace is available to all; our job is to find the humility... and wisdom ... to accept it.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Day 278, October 9
The concept of grace is a difficult one to understand. At least for me. I was brought up to believe that we must earn grace, that, indeed, grace is a reward for the effort we put forth. My parents taught what they had been taught by their parents, as is only natural.
It has only been in recent years that I understood that grace is a gift freely given by our Savior. He does not expect us to earn it, for we cannot possibly earn anything from the One who has given us everything.
So where does that leave me? If I'm not supposed to earn grace, how am I supposed to be worthy of it? Another flash of understanding: I will never be worthy of it. I can only strive to do what the Father and the Savior have instructed. And, imperfect being that I am, I will always struggle to do that. I will always struggle to be obedient, to be humble, to put aside my pride and my desire to "do it all by myself."
My spiritiual two-year-old self is a stubborn being. It is still convinced that it can do whatever is necessary "all by myself." What arrogance. What foolishness.
This I know for sure: grace is mine for the asking. But I must do the asking. The Father will not force it upon me.
It has only been in recent years that I understood that grace is a gift freely given by our Savior. He does not expect us to earn it, for we cannot possibly earn anything from the One who has given us everything.
So where does that leave me? If I'm not supposed to earn grace, how am I supposed to be worthy of it? Another flash of understanding: I will never be worthy of it. I can only strive to do what the Father and the Savior have instructed. And, imperfect being that I am, I will always struggle to do that. I will always struggle to be obedient, to be humble, to put aside my pride and my desire to "do it all by myself."
My spiritiual two-year-old self is a stubborn being. It is still convinced that it can do whatever is necessary "all by myself." What arrogance. What foolishness.
This I know for sure: grace is mine for the asking. But I must do the asking. The Father will not force it upon me.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Day 277, October 8
Delicious autumn!
My very soul is webbed to it,
and if I were a bird,
I would fly about the earth
seeking successive autumns.
-- George Eliot
George Eliot describes autumn in words that bring the season to life as surely as the scent of wood-burning stoves and pumpkin pie. Would that I had that gift for poetry.
The phrase "my very soul is webbed to it ..." causes me to wonder why my soul is webbed to. Is it webbed to the things of this world? Sometimes. Or is it webbed to eternal things? Less frequently.
This balance between being in the world but not of it is, like all matters of balance, difficult to achieve. At least for me. I am mortal enough to enjoy the pleasures and joys of this world. I am also wise enough (occasionally) to want something more, something more lasting.
This I know for sure: whatever my soul is webbed to defines me more surely than any outward description.
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