acceptance

I've spent a lot of time pondering the statement recently made to me by a friend: "I just want people to accept me the way I am." He then went on to say that his "friends" accepted him, his lifestyle choices, everything. They didn't look down on his decisions, they thought he was a great guy. What was my problem?

I thought about what he said. A lot. Mostly because it really cut me. This is a friend I truly love and care a lot about. When I've spoken with him about his life choices, it has been from a place of love, a place of concern for his happiness. And all he felt was judged.

As I pondered, the story of Cain and Abel was brought to my mind. I thought about the story and I thought about the subtlety of Satan. The subtlety that led Cain first to offer a sacrifice of his own choosing.

I am sure that Satan whispered something to Cain that was similar to what my friend said to me. "God (and those that follow Him) do not undestand you. They don't accept who you are. If they understood and accepted you, they would not ask you to be different or to be more than what you are."

These kind of deceiving whispers speak to the individuality of our spirits, they speak to the eternal gift of agency each of us fought to protect. And yet they are laced with a lie. They beckon us to live in the squalor of the "natural man," to deny godliness, and to tell God that if He really loved us, He would come to us and He would not expect us to come to Him.

And so Cain offered the sacrifice of a farmer - the natural man and the natural gift. But it was not what God required. The sacrifice God required would as a consequence require more of Cain. It would require him to stretch, to reach, to bend his will to the will of the Lord. In short, it would be hard.

God did not accept Cain's offering. Satan used this as evidence of God's lack of love for Cain - and His favoritism for Abel. When neither was the case.

My friend notwithstanding, how many of us do the same thing? I know there are times when I want the Lord to understand "this is just how I am - I can't change it" when deep down I know that if we are to find the image of the Lord in our countenances we must reject that idea - wholeheartedly. We must sacrifice in the way the Lord has commanded - with a broken heart and a contrite spirit - one that says, "this is how I am - but I want to be like you - please help me."

THAT is the sacrifice he requires. It requires us to stretch, to reach, to do more. In short, it is hard. But it is worth it - He has promised us all that He has.

I hope I can find each day the courage to do the hard work - the heavy lifting required for discipleship. I hope one day my friend will join me.

Pondering.
M

Making A Difference

Disclaimer: I am not writing this blog post to elicit encouragement or praise. I've actually posted it to this blog (instead of my other one) because it is more of a personal essay that I wanted to share with those who know me - and love me - best. Thanks for listening (or reading, I guess).

There are too many days that end with me sitting on the bed as day passes into night and I look around me and see what can only be described as the remains of the day. No matter how many times I picked up or didn't pick up, no matter how many dishes I did or didn't wash, no matter how many clothes I folded and put away, I'm still surrounded by a mess, by the daily clutter of six people - four of them small - and my general inability to keep up with them.

Surrounded by the visual evidences of my little failures, I pause to reflect on the day as the four small people I love so well sleep peacefully in their beds - for now. I think about how I should've been more patient, how I shouldn't have lost my temper, how I should've found time for each one of my kids so that before they went to bed they knew that Mom loved them today. Sitting, pausing, contemplating in my mess, it seems that it is only symbolic of the mess that maybe isn't as visible but is still just as important.

Which then leads me onward to the laundry list (no pun intended) of things I should do. Things I should do not because my church or my culture tell me to, but because they are good things, important things, things that would probably make me happier, make me more successful and less inclined to ponder my mess while sitting in my mess. They are things I think we all struggle with - at least the mommy blog world tells me so. But even that knowledge doesn't really help me with the fact that on some days, on most days, I feel like I'm losing the struggle.

But then, Heavenly Father is mindful of me, as He always is. And while there are many who seem to make His tender mercies into a cliche or a happy ending that is only for the blessed, there are moments when I feel the "sweet and calm assurance that He cares."

Tonight, after a long day in the trenches of motherhood when the mess is deeper than usual, I came to my computer just hoping. Not even aware of what I was hoping for, but just hoping. I opened up my email, and, as is my custom, checked the junk mail before dumping it in the cyber trash. In it was an email from a person I don't know and have never met. He'd found my website (which hasn't been updated in three years) and it turns out we are family - a fact he discovered when he googled a family name and was directed to the family history I posted on the website three years ago.

In that moment, the whispering came. It was small at first and if I had not been hoping for it, I probably would have missed it. But in that moment, I felt the quiet stirring of the spirit remind me that what I am doing is making a difference.

Then, as I glanced past the piles of laundry waiting for me on the floor, my eyes caught a statue I bought long ago of a mother holding a baby. And the whisper came again. What you are doing is making a difference.

The struggle is real. So are my failings at it. But Heavenly Father - in His mercy - has sent me kids who will weather their mother's failings, I know because I have seen it. They are forgiving and kind and they offer me each day the chance to do it better, the chance to do it right. They are so much like Heavenly Father in that way. We are all of us failing in one way or another, but Heavenly Father doesn't get angry, He doesn't throw up His hands in frustration and ask us why, He doesn't give up on us. He comes in those moments only a parent can find when our hearts are open and soft (sometimes because they are broken) and He pours in a measure of His spirit and reminds us again that He loves us, that mistakes are part of how we learn, and He has a plan - has always had a plan - for overcoming them.

So tonight, as one day fades into another, as life continues to move and change around me, I am grateful for a loving Father in Heaven, for the little mess-makers in my life that lead me ever back to Him, and for all the "sweet and calm assurances that He cares."

Pondering,
Meredith

The Peace

Today my YW lesson was on being a peacemaker. As I thought about over the past week in preparation for my lesson, as I reviewed the suggested readings (one from Pres. Faust on Forgiveness and the other from Pres. Eyring on Unity) I was struck with an interesting distinction - one I brought out for the girls.

1. In the world, when we think of peace, I think we could define peace as the absence of fighting. The absence of ill-will, hatred, oppression.

2. But to the Savior, the Prince of Peace, peace is so much more. His peace is not merely the absence of fighting - but the presence of love and goodwill, the exercising of choice to find a better way, to choose the better part. To proactively love and serve others and not wait for them to love or serve us first. The choice to frankly forgive wrongs others have done us, to not take offense, to let anger and grudges go. The choice to treat others as we want to be treated and then to treat them as the Savior would treat them. It's the choice to love and hope - unconditionally. The Savior's peace casts out doubts, worries, and fear (John 14:27), empowers us to move forward with faith that He is over all, and shelters and encourages us when things are hard.

In that light, I believe that the Lord was wise when He commanded us to be peacemakers - not peacekeepers. Peacekeepers defend lines - they enfore the no fighting policy. Because as long as we have no fighting - we have peace. Peacekeepers are also quick to gloss over feelings and hurts - reminding everyone that "everything's going so well" and that we all love each other - so we can stop fighting - even when everything's not fine and things really need to be healed and dealt with.

Peacemaking, on the other hand - is the Lord's work. It's working together to build, to make, and to grow His peace within each one of us and then within our families. It involves our choices at every level within our relationships. But most importantly, it involves the Prince of Peace - the Savior Himself, whose atonement is at work with and within every change of heart, every choice to do good and speak good instead of to do bad and speak bad. As we seek to repent of our sins, to frankly forgive those who've hurt us, and then find the courage to move forward, it is only through His atonement that we find personal peace and that we can be an agent for making peace in our homes.

And this is how we learn to be like Him. For this is how God lives, right? There are two choices - one to hurt, one to help. He chooses to help. To love, or to hate. He chooses to love. To fight or to forgive. He chooses to forgive. As we learn of Him, as we take His yoke upon us, and we strive to become like Him - we find peace and we make peace.

Then, as the scriptures repeatedly promise, we can share - as joint heirs with Christ - all that the Father has. Even an eternal piece of the peace He has made and promised to each who faithfully seeks Him. For "blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the children of God."


Pondering,
Meredith

a glimpse through the clouds

The other night, as I was driving home with a car full of screaming kids, I looked up. Up to the southern mountains that stand as sentinels around our "happy valley." Up and beyond to where my heart tells me my Heavenly Father watches and is mindful of me and my small struggles.

It is January in Utah. By far, not my favorite month. January is quite often the time between the beautiful white Christmas snows of December and the later season snows of February and March. It's too cold for words - too cold for pretty much anything - and with no precipitation, the unthinkable happens.

The haze settles in.

For those of you who have not experienced haze, I'll do my best to explain. Our valley is blanketed with a dirty blanket-like film the lingers at the base of the mountains. You look at the haze - because you can see it - and you know you're breathing that stuff in. That in addition to the freezing cold air burning your lungs, there is also the haze.

On top of this, on this particular January day, the sky was overcast and cloudy - thinking about snowing, but all the time knowing it wasn't going to. It was gray. It was gloomy. It was downright depressing.

Did I mention I was in a car filled with screaming children?

But then, as I looked up at those mountains, I noticed the clouds were breaking up just a bit. And like frozen chunks breaking free from the solidly frozen-over lake, river, or stream, there were pieces of clear sky. Glimpses of what lay beyond the solid, gray gloom below. And the sun was setting. So those pieces of clear sky were illuminated with the myriad strains of colors that exist between orange and pink, reflecting their colors on the white-capped mountain peaks.

Here, I thought, is God.

So often we find ourselves in the personal haze of life. We know it's bad. We can feel it. We can see it. But our spirits are numb, are minds and souls are frozen and polluted with what is (and sometimes what isn't) happening around us. Sometimes we're doing it to ourselves. Then, as if that weren't enough, we find ourselves surrounded by the solid, gray gloom of community, country, and global crises - situations where children go hungry, innocent lives are lost, natural disasters claim entire communities.

But, if we are looking, we can catch a glimpse of God through the clouds. He is there, beyond all that we can see and feel around us. His sky is clear and painted with the dazzling, sun-streaked colors of a desert sunset. He sees us from that vantage point, the light of his glory shining through the clouds and the haze right upon us.

He calls for us to follow Him, and while we cannot walk through that parting of the clouds, we can walk His path here in the haze below, mindful of the warmth and light that shines above - even when we cannot feel it or see it.

I recently encountered a word in the scriptures that I adore.

Dayspring.

Dayspring is the dawn. It is a title often ascribed to the Savior. As such, I think it is even more than just one simple dawn. Just like a spring of water will always bring forth fresh, clear water - even when rivers and streams run dry, a dayspring always brings the light of a new day - light that fully warms and illuminates everything in its path - rebuking the darkness as it goes.

So, as January progresses, one slow, gray day at a time - look for the glimpses, and know that as a child of God, you carry a piece of that dayspring with you always.

Pondering,
Meredith

remember, remember

This week our sunday school lesson was centered on Moses 1.

This section of the Pearl of Great Price develops the simple doctrines found in the Book of Genesis in the Old Testament, adding essential and very powerful truths about the nature of God and our relationship to Him. God is the creator of "works without end" (v4), an endless and almighty being who directs the "workmanship of [His] hands" (v4). And yet, he is also an Eternal Parent, identifying Moses repeatedly as "my son" (v4, 6, 7) for whom he has a great work to do. While conversing with the Lord, Moses beholds the Lord's glory and bears witness of the expanse of His creations. The experience overwhelms him, both physically and spiritually:

"And the presence of God withdrew from Moses, that his glory was not upon Moses; and Moses was left unto himself. And as he was left unto himself, he fell unto the earth." Moses 1:9

After a time, Moses regains his strength and is visited by Satan, who immediately tempts him, saying "Moses, son of man, worship me" (v12). As I read this verse and the verses that follow, wherein Moses tells Satan that he knows himself to be a son of God, that he knows of the glory of God, and that he therefore knows Satan to be a subtle imposter, my thoughts returned to Moses 1:9, where it reads:

"and Moses was left unto himself."

Prior to verse 9, Moses had been having one of the most powerful and intimate discussions with the Supreme Creator of the universe ever recorded. He was privileged to glimpse the expanse of eternity and his role in the Lord's plan. But then, as with all spiritual experiences, the window closed, the Lord withdrew His spirit, and Moses was left alone.

Each of us, though our communion with the Spirit may not be as profound as that experienced by Moses, has times when we feel the Spirit powerfully, intimately, bearing testimony to our souls of the truthfulness of the gospel, the reality of the plan of Salvation, the divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ, and our role (however small) in moving the work along. As we progress along the path toward true discipleship, we can taste of the goodness of God.

But then we are left unto ourselves.

And then what?

For Moses, it was only hours before he was confronted with the father of all lies, personally trying to lead him away from the truths he had just been taught.

It would be easy for us to say, how could he possbily have been tempted to follow Satan? He had just beheld the glory of God! It would be easy to say, "if I had talked with God - face-to-face as the scriptures teach - I would never falter in my testimony."

But would we?

As I pondered, my thoughts were directed to Laman and Lemuel. These two guys had tasted of the glory of God. They had been visited (more than once) by angels. They had be shaken to the core by power of God. They had witnessed and experienced many of the same miracles, been party to the same doctrinal instruction, and read from the same scriptures as Sam and Nephi. And yet, when all was said and done, they reached a point where they were beyond feeling, a point when the father of all lies came to lead them from the truths they had been taught - and they followed after him.

So what was the difference? The difference between Laman/Lemuel and Sam/Nephi...and Moses?

I believe the difference was in their alone time.

The Book of Mormon teaches that following a spiritual experience, Nephi would inquire of the Lord, seeking further instruction and a personal witness. He would ponder on what he had seen and heard. And then, like Moses, when temptation came - and I am certain it did - he would remember.

Remember.

This was the lesson of Moses 1:9 for me - Remember.

As a parent, I am constantly reminding my children to do something or other. When they don't and I ask why, they generally respond that they forgot.

Do we do the same?

As each of us experience those tender, precious moments of truth when our spirits are instructed by the Spirit of God and when we, like Moses, glimpse His glory, we need to remember. When the spirit leaves us to ourselves, we need to return to the Lord for further instruction and a personal witness. We need to build a reserve of spiritual memories that will strengthen us against the temptations of Satan.

Then, when the father of all lies comes to tempt us, we can, as Paul instructed the Hebrews "cast not away therefore thy confidence" (Heb. 10:35). We can remember, as Moses did, we can rebuke the temptor, and we can return with confidence as beloved sons and daughters of God and hear the words of the Lord speaking to us: "Blessed art thou...for I, the Almighty, have chosen thee, and thou shalt be made stronger than many waters..." (v25).

I believe there is great power to be found in this remembering, in fact, I believe, as Helaman did, that it is critical to our spiritual survival against the buffetings of Satan:

"And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall." (Hel. 5:12)

May we each take time to seek after the Lord and His goodness and then, once we have experienced it, REMEMBER HIM in the times when are left unto ourselves.

Pondering on,
Meredith