Day 202, July 31

Today is my birthday, but I am not writing about that.  Instead, I want to write about something more important, something that weighs heavily upon me (like my hips).

I've written before about my difficulty in forgiving.  However much I struggle to forgive others, I struggle even more to forgive myself.  Past sins--grievous and painful--come back to haunt me, to taunt me, to say, "You'll never get beyond what you've done, what you are.  You'll never be anything more than a miserable toad."

What an ugly picture that is.  A toad, covered with warts and scaly skin and overall repulsive.

Then I found a quote by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Council of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints:

"There is something in many of us that particularly fails to forgive and to forget earlier mistakes in life ... It is not good.  It is not Christian.  It stands in terrible opposition to the grandeur and magesty of the Atonement of Christ.  To be tied to earlier mistakes is the worst kind of wallowing in the past from which we are called to cease and desist."

Yuck.  Do I really want to stand in opposition to the Atonement?  Of course not.  But how do I forgive and forget those sins that haunt and taunt me? How do I let go of them and find hope for the present and the future?

The answer, as always, is to believe in the Savior, to believe the Savior.

Joy for today:  finding hope in the Atonement.

Day 201, July 30

In my reading, I came across the following quote by Wayne Brickey:

"Oddly enough, our vision sometimes improves when our conditions worsen, creating an occasional windowpane or window of pain, in the veil.  A paralyzing problem can bring the stillness that causes us to pause, and, for a change, reverently look at the whole scene, which is the smallest scene we can trust."

Of course the writer in me loves the play on words of "windowpane" and "window of pain."  I have been in my own window of pain, trying to find my way past the grief that grips my heart and soul.  I admit it--I'm not doing very well.  But as I struggle, I gain brief glimpses of the "whole scene, which is the smallest scene we can trust."  And maybe, just maybe, I'll find the path beyond grief and into joy.

Joy for today:  looking at the whole scene.

Day 200, July 29

We have all heard of the crucible of fire.  I am going through my own crucible of fire, feeling the refining of my heart and soul  as I said goodbye to my dear and much loved sister last week.  Carla had undergone her own crucible of fire, being refined as she battled ovarian cancer for nine long years, enduring 25 chemotherapy sessions--surely that is too many for one individual to endure.

It occurred to me when I typed the word "refining" that it differs only in one small consonant  from the word "refiring."  Perhaps in being refined in my grief, I am also being refired as the the Father purifies and humbles my hardened heart and rebellious spirit.  I liken it to a piece of pottery being fired in a kiln so that it can withstand the daily use to which it will be subjected.

Joy for today:  being refined and refired.

Day 199, July 28

I found the following in my son Rob's blog:  

"'Belief gives you the power to achieve the extraordinary."--Chris Powell

 "For a long time I guess I have felt extra ordinary. I have always been fascinated by the word. How did the word come about? The absence of the space changes the word entirely. We all have the capacity to be extraordinary because we are sons and daughters of God. We have a divine destiny. But this blog is not about 'we' but about 'me.' I am a son of God. I have a divine destiny. I am born of a noble birthright. I have made covenants and will one day receive a whole slew of blessings. So today I am choosing to believe in me. I am going to believe me when I tell myself that I can do this."  (Robert Choate)

Can you see why I'm so proud of Rob?  I've told him that he should be the writer in the family.  His strength and perseverance continue to amaze me ... and to humble me.

Joy for today:  learning from a son.

Day 198, July 27

"When you see your own weaknesses more clearly, you are coming closer to the Savior."--Bruce C. Hafen

I don't know if I've quoted that exactly, but you get the idea.

Lately, I think I must be coming closer to the Savior because never have my weaknesses, my sins, my frailities been more clear.  I see them, I feel them, I taste them.

Perhaps the Savior thinks that I have grown cocky, arrogant, proud, so He is opening my eyes to my many shortcomings.  I don't know.  What I do know is that I have been awakened to things that need correcting.

Joy for today:  coming closer to the Savior, whatever route that may take.

Day 197, July 26

Have you seen the public service announcement on television showing a young boy at a piano concert?  The little boy "escapes" his parents and finds his way to the stage where a grand piano awaits.  To his parents' chagrin, he climbs up on the bench and beings playing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."

The featured pianist steps behind the boy, places his hands upon the piano, and says, "Don't quit.  Keep playing."  The master starts playing an accompaniment, an obligatto, his large hands surrounding the much smaller ones of the boy.

I imagine the Father telling me, "Don't quit.  Keep playing."  I like to think He is encouraging me, even when recognizing that my efforts are puny when compared to His.  I like to think of His arms surrounding me when I am tempted to give up.

Joy for today:  keeping playing.

Day 196, July 25

Yesterday I wrote of my pioneer ancestors, including my grandfather Don Carlos McBride.  Don Carlos was a remarkable man.  With his family, he worked a small farm in Pima, Arizona.  The Gila Valley was known for gila monsters, cacti, and a constant struggle for water.

When he was a husband and father of two small children, Don Carlos was called to serve a mission to Samoa.  Though this cost his family much sacrifice, his wife supported him.  He arrived in Samoa with only a few dollars.  He subsisted on grubs (a small shrimp like substance he found in the sand) but was determined to teach the Gospel to the people he quickly grew to love.   After he returned home, he and his wife had another child when again Don Carlos was called on a mission, once more to Samoa.

Shortly after he returned home for a second time, his wife died, leaving him alone with three small children to care for.  Don Carlos didn't give up, though.  He met the woman who would later become my grandmother, had six more children, and raised his family in righteousness.

Joy for today:  learning faith from those who have gone before.