Tough Decisions

Throughout my life, I’ve faced some complicated social situations that have defied simple answers. I’ve learned the hard way that when these challenges come along, the quickest way through them is to allow them to be lessons, not punishments. This takes me to my knees sooner rather than later. Why did it take me this long to understand? Especially when God’s promised rewards are so great and repeated so often in scripture.

We all know that Christianity and other religions counsel us to be charitable and forgiving, and I won’t argue with that. But sometimes that isn’t the whole story. You can forgive someone who repeatedly wounds your feelings, or worse, but then you have to decide how to relate to them in the future. Do we just lie down and let the hurtful behavior continue? Do we let that person hurt your family and friends? Does a relationship bring out the worst in ourselves, and what do we do about that? I propose that there aren’t easy answers nor rules to follow here.

In my church, we are given the gift of the Holy Ghost when we’re baptized so that we can receive personal, divine guidance for situations that are too complicated for simple rules. A gospel teacher once said, “We have only 10 Commandments for a reason – the rest of the time, we need God’s guidance coupled with our own efforts.”

In the 1990s, I was on the HOA Board of the condominium building where I lived, and we faced some sticky problems relating to each other and the owners at large. Another board member said something I’ve never forgotten:  “A relationship is a lot like being inside a large circle of rope on the ground; sometimes problems can’t be solved, so you just need to step out of the circle – just STEP OUT.” Wow, that seemed harsh at first, especially to someone like myself who can overdo the “mothering the whole world” mentality. But we can’t take care of everyone, we can’t make every relationship work (“it takes two to tango”), and we don’t have unlimited emotional and physical energy to invest without robbing other areas of our lives where we can be effective. Coupled with divine confirmation, I have actually found this to be both liberating and a quicker path to reconnection, should that be possible.

None of this should discount the very real times when we need to stick it out in a long-term relationship with serious challenges: a family member with an addiction, an ongoing health problem, or a rebellious child – to name just a few. Sorting out whether a situation calls for us to stay or to go is tricky and shouldn’t be undertaken lightly. As Dr. Phil repeatedly advises, in a marriage with children, you have to earn your way out: prayer, counseling, legal advice, more prayer, etc.

I like the classic book, The Dance of Intimacy by Harriet Lerner that goes into far greater detail on gracefully stepping away or drawing closer. Don’t we ultimately want to dance through life – riding rhythms of energy, creativity, love and service – and “mount up with wings as eagles” (Isaiah 40:31). A final remembered quote: We are constantly deciding whether to love or pass unswervingly by.

The world doesn’t acknowledge God much anymore, especially not in a positive way – how we miss out!  From Proverbs 3:5-6, 11-12:

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways, acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. . .
My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction:
For whom the Lord loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth.

Getting spiritual answers is like finding lily of the valley blooms in my grandmother’s garden as a child. They were hiding under the greenery and I had to push it aside to find them, a lot like pushing aside our daily busyness to find God. More and more, I find it’s worth the trouble to pray, then wait for inspiration.

Lily of the Valley Courtesy Pixabay.com

Lily of the Valley
Courtesy Pixabay.com

 

Covenant America

Today’s the Fourth of July and I always like to celebrate our nation’s struggle to gain freedom. It’s a story every school child knows, and we all know someone who’s fought to defend it.

But what we may not understand is the spiritual heritage and mandate resting on our nation. It originated with our ancient Old Testament patriarch, Abraham. Because Abraham was righteous in worshiping the true God of Israel and not the idols surrounding him, and because he was willing to sacrifice his son Isaac to the Lord on faith, God made some profound promises to him:

  • He would inherit a Promised Land – Canaan in Israel – in mortality and in eternity.
  • He would have a posterity too numerous to count that would bless all other nations.
  • His posterity would be prospered and protected as long as they were righteous and refused to worship idols.

Both this blessing and its associated “curse” are described in the Book of Deuteronomy, summarized as follows:

If the children of Israel are obedient, they will be blessed temporally and spiritually—If they are disobedient, they will be cursed, smitten, and destroyed; diseases, plagues, and oppression will come upon them; they will serve false gods and become a byword among all nations; fierce nations will enslave them; and they will eat their own children and be scattered among all nations. (Chapter Heading, Deuteronomy 28, LDS King James Bible)

In Old Testament times, Egypt was the big world power, and Assyria was the country by which disobedient Israel was punished for idolatry. Israel ultimately was destroyed as a nation and scattered throughout the Earth.

George Washington, our first president, invoked these blessings on America in his Inaugural address and subsequent official prayer:

. . . it would be peculiarly improper to omit in this first official act my fervent supplications to that Almighty Being Who rules over the universe, Who presides in the councils of nations, and Whose providential aids can supply every human defect – that His benediction may consecrate to the liberties and happiness of the people of the United States a government instituted by themselves for these essential purposes.  . . . We ought to be no less persuaded that the propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right which Heaven itself has ordained;  (Click HERE for full address)

Furthermore, Abraham Lincoln invoked these ancient promises and protections during our nation’s greatest struggle for survival, the Civil War. Some quotes:

I know that the Lord is always on the side of the right. But it is my constant anxiety and prayer that I and this nation should be on the Lord’s side. . . . Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith, let us, to the end, dare to do our duty as we understand it. . . . It behooves us, then, to humble ourselves before the offended Power, to confess our national sins, and to pray for clemency and forgiveness.  

In our day, America is the world power, and the nations who wish us harm are modern counterparts to Assyria who can potentially remove our freedoms. See the writing of Isaiah scholar, Dr. Avraham Gileadi for further enlightenment. Are we, as a nation, living in such a way as to preserve our national security from adversity and attack? What do recent natural disasters and the events of 9-11 say to us?

Let us not be drawn into the idol worship of our day, and may we see the Lord’s hand in providing and protecting our precious freedoms!

George Washington Taking Oath of Office Courtesy Wikipedia

George Washington Taking Oath of Office
Courtesy Wikipedia

There Is a Balm in Gilead

I learned something this year that I wish I’d known a lot sooner. After my conversion 40 years ago, I was taught that God will forgive sin and relieve the guilt that comes from our missteps after we repent. And I also discovered some time ago that He’d heal my painful memories from the past as I forgave those who hurt me.

But when someone says something that hurts my feelings now, I’ve struggled with how to react.  My first defensive reaction has been to either get angry or just “suck it up” and stuff my feelings.  But neither one really worked to lose those painful feelings and freely forgive.

About three months ago, someone said something a little negative about me in a public discussion that came out of the blue, and it really stung.  I didn’t react there, but when I went home, I got on my knees and just said to the Lord, “That really hurt – please help me.” I took a page from psychologists and sent the Lord an “I message” – just describing my feelings but not the other person. Immediately, the pain went away!  And then the Lord showed me why that person said what they did and why they were hurting.  My feelings of being put down and made small immediately changed to understanding, even empathy. That was a light bulb moment and truly liberating – why hadn’t I tried that long ago?

Since then I’ve practiced this with both big and small hurts. It’s worked every time!  My wounded feelings have been healed quickly, then I was guided on how to handle the situation.  Sometimes it helps to say something to the person, giving an “I Message” describing my feelings to the other person without accusation. Other times, I let it go, realizing we all have to pick our battles and this isn’t one I need to tackle.  Occasionally, a hurtful interaction gives me a necessary signal that I need to change my boundaries with this person or group of people.

I’ve learned we have a stewardship over how we protect and care for ourselves, not in a selfish way, but so we can continue to serve others and be productive.  Just as the Lord is mindful of how we treat others, He also cares about our vulnerable side and is lovingly protective. I’ve been amazed to receive clear guidance that I need to take a step back from a relationship – when “irreconcilable differences” have emerged and after I’ve given it my best effort.  Much as we want to create connection, not everyone is committed to healthy relationships, and it’s not our fault!

I love the hymn, There is a Balm in Gilead – its lyrics speak to me:

There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the sin-sick soul.
Some times I feel discouraged,
And think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit
Revives my soul again.

The keys to accessing this divine balm are being willing to recognize and repent for our part in a problem interaction, not indulging in any hateful behavior in response to another, and being really humble about what is the best, most god-like way to act in the future.

The Lord has truly “revived my soul” and made my “wounded self whole” and I stand all amazed!  I hope you find that peace and healing yourself.

Balsam Poplar Bud to Make Modern Balm of Gilead Courtesy The Naturalist's Miscellany

Balsam Poplar Bud to Make Modern Balm of Gilead
Courtesy The Naturalist’s Miscellany

Click HERE for an interesting Biblical discussion on God’s healing grace.

Waiting Upon the Lord

Last week I got stuck for a topic for my weekly post.  No idea I tried out really went anywhere. Then I happened to see a rebroadcast of the Elizabeth Gilbert interview on PBS’ Great Conversations that I had mentioned in a previous post, The Gems Within – specifically her observation that there is a spirit in the universe that’s seeking human expression. If we don’t let it work in us, it will move on to someone else who will respond.

This time, though, I was struck by a different thought.  She reported that a songwriter friend of hers would either get stuck for inspiration or not be able to develop any ideas he did have.  He told Elizabeth he would have a conversation with this spirit and say, “I really need you to show up – I can’t do this on my own!” I realized that I had felt that inspiration on all earlier posts and I sure needed it now. After all, God inspired me to start this blog, and I’ve been so happy to get reports that a particular post had given a reader a needed boost or insight, in ways I can only attribute to the Lord’s special knowledge of their needs.

So I decided to not force it but just keep praying and thinking until I felt that familiar rush of excitement and certainty that I was on the right track.  It’s getting the focus or central thought right, then everything else falls into place. That was Thursday night and I’d been pondering for two days. I got up last Friday morning and the idea “showed up.” It was almost a duh! because the inspiration that got me out of being stuck was writing about being stuck! (One Foot Into the Darkness)

So today’s post is really a continuation of last week’s –  the first step or that first blow on a wedge is our part. I’d sorted through my thoughts and started to write, but I couldn’t proceed without divine inspiration. Receiving that required a different sort of action – active waiting – mirroring this scripture from Isaiah:

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings as 
eagles; they shall run, and not be weary;
and they shall walk, and not faint.
(Isaiah 40:31)

Now I get this scripture and I really learned the lesson through teaching Sunday School for over two years.  I could study and lay out a lesson, but on my own I struggled to create the right focus or impact.  I needed to think, ask, and wait, then repeat as often as necessary. (Hey, that could be a book title, like Eat, Pray, Love!)  

It was active waiting, expectant waiting, anticipatory waiting that got my silent partner to participate. The guidance was subtle and often last minute, but it always came.  And it brought an excitement that felt just like I’d expect mounting up with the wings as eagles to feel. That three-way connection between me, my readers, and God is a total trip, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and socially. It’s not work, it’s fulfillment – thanks for participating!

For more insights, you might read the LDS Bible Dictionary on Prayer, the next to last paragraph, available online or the linked scriptures in the LDS Topical Guide under Ask.

 From The Virgin of the Rocks, Leonardo da Vinci The National Gallery, London, public domain image

From The Virgin of the Rocks, Leonardo da Vinci
The National Gallery, London, public domain image

 

One Foot Into the Darkness

As I rest and gather my forces for what may be coming up on the horizon, I find myself being dragged towards sloth. I watch the birds at my feeder long enough that I’m almost starting to name them.  The house has never been so clean and orderly. I read scriptures twice a day and keep up with friends.  But I’m not plugging into the larger picture. Finally I realize that the future isn’t just going to happen to me but it’s something I have to help co-create.

What’s calling to me? Family history research, increased temple attendance, finding ways to “defend the faith” online, plus unearthing those special real estate clients for whom I’m the right match.  And of course, more writing. I have a small booklet on managing children’s behavior I wrote during my teaching days that I want to convert to an ebook and my phonics readers to publish. It all looks rather daunting, so I’m tempted to retreat back into more trivial pursuits, like perfecting my gluten-free crepe recipe!

Recalling again the Lord’s counsel to Joshua, about to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land:  Be strong and of a good courage, . . . I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.  (Joshua 1:5-6) And He didn’t: The Israelites prevailed over the idolatrous Caanites. I could therefore attack my to-do list with courage and confidence. However, my energy level won’t stand a big push right now, so I remembered other counsel, given to Elder Boyd K. Packer, soon after being called as an LDS General Authority:

I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do. I returned to Elder [Harold B. ] Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, “The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.” I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: “You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you” (“The Edge of the Light,” BYU Today, March 1991, 22–23).

So I’m resolving to just take the first steps on my projects.  This afternoon I’ll toodle off to the temple and perform an endowment for a female ancestor who’s waited long enough. The Lord blessed me with the inspiration for this post last night, so it flowed easily.  I’ll print my real estate flyers today and mail them on Monday. Next week, I’ll read up on ebooks and research blog directories to find missionary opportunities.

Then I remembered a lesson from my days living in the woods of New Hampshire. We burned wood for most of our heat, much of which needed to be split.  We used the “hard” varieties like maple and oak which mightily resisted being split with an ax, even a sharp one. So Pete and I learned to use a wedge and maul.  You make the first cut with an ax, then insert the point of the wedge, driving it down progressively with each strike of the maul. Finally, the thing splits in two. In a battle between the tortoise and the hare, the tortoise wins here every time.

So if you’re facing a daunting challenge, remember you only have to make one strike at a time, but each strike widens the split in the wood, giving momentum to our motivation. The wedge, or God’s grace, is the multiplier.

Splitting Wood Courtesy Pixabay.com Image 59.16

Splitting Wood
Courtesy Pixabay.com Image 5916

 

A Dog Named Jake

We often comment on how people influence us, but today my memories center on a dog.  His owner Bob was a friend during my days in New Hampshire.  Bob was a great guy and so was his black Labrador, Jake.  He was a powerful, strong-willed animal whose profile jutted into the wind like a ship’s figurehead.  But ironically, he was also calm and very obedient to Bob’s commands.  When we were visiting, Jake would lie quietly and not disrupt our visit.  When it was time to go out and play catch, he was all over it, tail-wagging and eager.  I asked Bob what made Jake such a terrific dog.  His answer: “Because I’m a fascist with him!”  He didn’t mean that he was harsh with Jake, just clear and very firm.

One day when Bob got up to leave, I stayed in my rocking chair with Jake on the floor beside me.  As soon as Bob called for Jake to leave, he immediately followed Bob without looking back. I remembered I hadn’t said goodbye to Jake as I always did.  I called out to him – he immediately turned on a dime and came right over, wagging his tail.  I scratched his ears and shared a nice moment; then they were gone.

I want to be like Jake:  moving forward decisively without hesitation but also able to make a course correction, even an extreme one, quickly and with grace.  My recent home re-organization could easily have created resistance since it came with some real surprises and serious drudgery, as well as shrinking my world. Coming to the end of my “40 years in the wilderness” had left me listless and drained.  After a week of puttering, watching movies in the afternoon, and sleeping in, energy was emerging and well-being was returning. I now had a clear choice:  drag my feet looking back or just go with it, like Jake.

Then I remembered an old Native American custom: When their people were sad or stuck, they would make them walk along a moving river until their emotions and thoughts moved too. So I just started moving more: parking myself at the computer, putting the last books in place, going for walks, calling old friends. I remembered my love of bike riding.  It’s pretty hard to balance when you’re stopped but so easy and free when you’re moving.

Finally, when my thoughts needed rearranging, I often played Free Cell on my laptop. Okay, it’s my guilty secret, so sue me!  But as I rearrange cards, I play with my thoughts, like fingering marbles in my pocket.  A half hour or an hour later, I have a whole new perspective.  Not a bad investment. Capped off with heart-felt prayer and taking direction from my Heavenly Father, I can see clearly once again.

Conclusion:  movement is magic!  Whether, it’s dancing, sports, housework, or simply spiritual and mental pondering, they can break those resistant log-jams so we don’t get bogged down. Try it, you’ll like it!

Wherefore . . . seek not to counsel the Lord, but to take counsel from his hand.
For behold, ye yourselves know that he counseleth in wisdom, and in justice, and in great mercy,
over all his works.
 (Book of Mormon, Jacob 4:10)

 A Dog Named Jake Courtesy Pixabay.com Image 143753

A Dog Named Jake
Courtesy Pixabay.com Image 143753

 

The Field Lies Fallow

I’ve been struggling to put my thoughts on paper this week and they hadn’t come together by yesterday when I decided – duh! – to finally pray about it.  Immediately the title “The Field Lies Fallow” sprang to mind. Perhaps there was a reason I suddenly felt blah, creatively.

Looking to the past, I realized that I was completing a personal “40 years in the wilderness” this month.  In May of 1974, I decisively put my foot on the path of a Christian, having received my first answer to prayer and making a real change in lifestyle. Those 40 years were spent reconciling my three identities:  Iowa school girl, New England hippie, and Utah Mormon. It’s been a long trek, punctuated with many blessings, certainly, but also almost constant adversity. Just as the ancient Israelites had to leave Egypt and wander 40 years in the desert of Sinai, to lose its worldly ways, I had to learn to live by Christian principles through the things I experienced.

Looking to the future, I sense new directions on the horizon. I’ve just completed a massive reorganization of my home. I doubled, maybe tripled my energy level by using St. John’s Wort for seasonal fatigue and probiotics for improved digestion. I was excited to expand my writing online, find new real estate clients, and return to family history research.

Coincidentally, my Sunday School lesson last week was about Joshua as Moses’ successor and how he prepared the 12 tribes of Israel for the new challenge of entering, then conquering the Promised Land of Canaan. If they would study and ponder the ancient scriptures, rededicate themselves spiritually, then exercise faith and courage, the Lord promised Joshua and all Israel:

“As I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.(Joshua 1:5)

His first challenge soon appeared. Joshua and the Priesthood of Israel had to hold back the waters of the Jordan River for the Israelites to cross over on dry ground, then they conquered Jericho, not through human strength but by obeying instructions from the Lord that must have seemed crazy (walk around the city blowing a trumpet for six days, then seven times on the seventh day, finally giving a loud shout), from Joshua 6.  The Israelites had prepared inwardly and then triumphed outwardly as the walls of Jericho all fell down at their shout.

What are the odds that I would be assigned this particular lesson that so closely mirrored my own path? I felt deeply touched and reassured I would have God’s support in whatever lay ahead. How often are we all faced with a new chapter or challenge in our lives, must “gird up our loins” with greater faith, and step into darkness with courage? I think that Joshua’s promise holds true for all people who sincerely seek after what’s good and true.

Finally, I remembered a lovely book, The Faithful Gardener by Clarissa Pinkola Estés. (See my review under Books.) Her opening quote says:

New seed is faithful. It roots deepest in the places that are most empty.

I realized that I wasn’t giving myself time to become empty or “lie fallow” so I could mediate, rededicate, and renew myself. I will slow down in the coming weeks and let the future creep up on me the way plants come back after a forest fire or grass emerges each spring.

Whether your journey changes course through a happy change or through fiery adversity, good can always arise from those ashes.  Ms. Estés concludes with A Prayer:

Refuse to fall down.
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart towards heaven,
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled,
And it will be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising.
But no one can keep you
from lifting your heart
toward heaven –
only you.
It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good
came of this,
is not yet listening.

Fallow Field Courtesy Pixabay.com Image 140589

The Field Lies Fallow
Courtesy Pixabay.com Image 140589

Speaking My Truth in Love

I recently had the opportunity to revisit old emotional patterns by reconnecting with someone from my past. Good memories surfaced along with anxiety about being misunderstood. I was also worried that I would revert to my childhood ways, fearfully holding back my inner self until, in frustration, I would express myself either harshly or in tears.

During my years in education, I learned that losing emotional control causes a loss of personal power. The person who stays calm and rational can prevent an ugly argument and open pathways of understanding. As I applied this in my own life, I made steady progress in self-control. It was disheartening now to see myself go backward.

Needing a break from my worries and normal Saturday morning chores, I found a wonderful documentary on PBS, E Haku Inoa – To Weave a Name, about a daughter reconnecting with her Hawaiian mother, separated from childhood. It was a rocky road for both, with healing and forgiveness only coming from honest sharing over an extended period of time. The daughter finally learned the meaning of her Hawaiian name and reconnected with her lost heritage in the process.

It was poetic and the island rhythms gently unlocked my own feelings. Without warning, they overflowed into cleansing tears. My anxiety washed away and confidence returned. I was stunned at the “tender mercies of the Lord” in bringing these lovely people into my living room just at the moment I needed them.

 Hawaiian Beach Courtesy All-Free-Download.com

Hawaiian Beach
Courtesy All-Free-Download.com

I remembered the following scripture:

That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive; but speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ: From whom the whole body fitly joined together . . .  maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love. (Ephesians 4:14-16)

That’s what I think we all want, being “fitly joined together” in understanding and harmony, edified about each other in love. I also believe we each occupy a sacred space in the universe, and we must define and protect it. Speaking truthfully, but lovingly, is how we do that. Besides, holding that truth inside without expression creates a gulf between people and condemns us to loneliness and isolation. We can’t really connect without revealing who we are.

It’s scary to open up the tender places within and put them out there for others to affirm, ignore, or reject, because we often don’t know which it will be. But I believe that the increased closeness that comes is ample reward for exercising just a little courage and tact. It’s worked for me in the past, and I’m hopeful it will continue to do so now.

Perhaps you should try not suffering in silence but with inspiration and gentleness, “speak your own truth in love.”

Moms and Sparrows

Bird feeders are a tradition in my family.  My grandfather was an expert on the birds of eastern Iowa.  We had a feeder right outside the kitchen window growing up and delighted in watching cardinals, blue jays, chickadees and sparrows come to feed.  My daughter gave me the feeder she could no longer use, and I hung it above my back patio.  I enjoy the dapper juncos who come only in the winter and the sparrows, wrens and mourning doves who come in the warm months with their lively chatter and carefree life.

Last July I noticed something new.  While perched on the feeder, some of the sparrows were putting seeds directly into the mouths of the birds next to them.  Then I realized that those were their fledgling babies, and they were teaching them how to find and eat their own food.  What a treat to witness this annual event – and what a testament to devoted motherhood.

© Sander van der Wel 2010 Courtesy of Flickr.com

© Sander van der Wel 2010
Courtesy of Flickr.com

On Mother’s Day, I remembered those sparrows and then my own departed Mom. I was thankful for the many wonderful meals and good talks we shared.

I was asked to speak in church for this occasion, so I rolled out a favorite fictional woman: Dorothea Brooksa frustrated idealist who never had any great achievements.  She was a lead character in Middlemarch, an English novel set in the 1800’s and then a PBS Masterpiece Classic.  The narrator ended by saying:

Dorothea had no dreams of being praised above other women, feeling that there was always something better that she might have done if she’d only been better and known better.  Her full nature spent itself in deeds which left no great name on the earth but the effect of her being on those around her was incalculable.  For the growing good of the world is partly dependent on un-historic acts and all those Dorotheas who live faithfully their hidden lives and rest in unvisited tombs . . . . 

My mother was the opposite, a celebrated portrait artist whose hundreds of paintings graced many homes and public buildings, blessing countless lives. But her children don’t remember all those paintings nearly as much as her vibrant spirit, high standards, and great heart. She truly was the heart and center of our home. Right after her funeral when the family was gathered with Dad at their house, God’s Spirit suddenly opened my mind. I could actually see her vibrant energy literally living on in all of us as well as our children, each in our own way.

I think most of us leave very little mark on the outer world and are more like the humble sparrow feeding her babies one seed at a time.  But I also think we leave indelible hand prints on the lives and hearts of our descendants and thereby make a very real contribution to “the growing good of the world.”

Just “Bozos on the Bus”

Lately, I let anxiety about the future creep into my thoughts – in spite of much preparation and reassurance from God that I’ll be cared for. Additionally, I was worried for my family.  It was a lot like the old saying, “The right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing.”  In this case, I consciously thought I was exercising faith and feeling serenity but actually I wasn’t watching worries build up in my subconscious until they spilled over to overwhelm that faith and my daily effectiveness.

After days of trying to exert my own mental powers and failing to change course, I decided – duh! – to ask for a priesthood blessing from my home teachers.  They patiently listened to my concerns, then proceeded to lay their hands on my head and give me inspired counsel:  I would be cared for, be physically and spiritually safe, and my family’s spiritual path was safely in His hands – I could let go and trust Him.  It felt like unseen fingers reached into my brain and rearranged my thoughts, like the direction to “correct the seasoning” at the end of many recipes.  It was gentle, deep, and very reassuring.

The next day I remembered a saying:

 “We are all bozos on the bus, so we might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.

I looked it up and found that Wavy Gravy said it at Woodstock in 1969, then Elizabeth Lesser commented on it in her book Broken Open which is where I originally read it.  That made me think of The Muppet Movie which is on my list of favorites – goofy guys bumping along the road of life. I needed to be more like them, more childlike:

 And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.  (Matthew 18:2-3)

To drive the point home, Heavenly Father sent the following experience.  Monday night was a lovely balmy evening and I was sitting in my living room with the windows open, reading.  I suddenly became aware of the echoing of bird song through the trees, the scent of my newly picked lilacs, and an intense recollection of being a child exploring my grandparents’ yard and the ravine beyond it.  I loved exploring the lush greenery.  There were lilies of the valley in the shade along the garage wall and masses of phlox along the edge of the yard.  The ravine hid many other treasures:  lacy ferns, dainty white anemone, and the mysterious Jack-in-the-Pulpit shyly hiding in the shade. Owls and toads lived there.

Jack-in-the-Pulpit Courtesy Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center

Jack-in-the-Pulpit
Courtesy Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center

This was more than a memory, I actually re-experienced being a carefree child.  Shrunk to child height, I felt the original wonder of first seeing these treasures, with their haunting fragrance, and enjoyed again my grandparents sleeping porch, listening to the owls in their towering oak trees. What a wonderful way to bring home the advice given in my blessing.  It lasted about an hour and sealed this lesson in my soul.

Now when I go out for walks, I notice the plants and birds more, and my own thoughts less.  I don’t know one iota more about the future than I did, but since I’ve done all I can to prepare, I don’t need to know. I’m too busy enjoying the present.