A Shove in the Right Direction

You know when you get stuck in a pretty major rut? You accept that you need to make some changes, but something always stops you from doing it. You even want to make those changes, but not badly enough that you actually do.

I have been in that sort of rut for a very long time. I haven't been reading my scriptures or saying my prayers - at least not regularly - for a few years now. Yikes, I know. I hate saying it in such a public way, almost convinced myself not to... it makes me feel a little exposed and very much self-conscious. Completely ashamed, even.

But if I didn't admit that much, than the rest of what I want to say wouldn't really make a single bit of difference. And let me warn you that this will take a long time to tell. A very long time. So get comfy.

For quite some time now, I haven't felt good enough. Like I'm doing everything wrong in my life. Or, even if I'm doing it right, I'm not doing it well enough to really make it count. I would often sit down and have a huge mental list going of all the changes I felt like I needed and wanted to make in my life. And you know, it became overwhelming very, very quickly. To the point where I would give up before I even got started, and just get on my own case about what a failure I continued to be. Can't even find the motivation to do one tiny thing. How worthless I am.

I know! I should have stopped myself right there, and told myself to just do something, anything, to start improving myself, reaching my goals, and making myself what I want to be. I know what a trap I was putting myself into with that sort of thinking, but I never could seem to pull myself out of it, despite that knowledge. I simply felt overwhelmed, and held my own worth in very low esteem. I just couldn't motivate myself to simply get started, no matter how badly I wanted to change. There was always some lame excuse getting in the way.

Then Sunday happened. I went to church, as we do every Sunday. With three small children in tow, and a calling to teach the 6-year-olds in Sunday School, I typically don't really learn very much during the meetings. But somehow, things worked out this particular week, and I was able to listen fairly well to the talks given during Sacrament Meeting that day. A rare treat, our Bishop presented a talk he prepared. I didn't hear every single word of his talk, but I heard enough that it made an impact in my heart.

His talk focused on the story of the Jaredites found in the book of Ether in the Book of Mormon, and how their experience can be likened to our both financial and spiritual safety in today's world. The financial aspect makes sense, of course, since Bishop Paul is works in the finance industry, and obviously, as he discussed, our country's current state of financial affairs is looking pretty grim. But my heart was really focused on what he was saying on the spiritual aspect, since that is where I've felt like I really need help lately.

The Jaredites, as the Book of Mormon tells us, were led to the Americas by God at the time of the Tower of Babel. As they prepared to cross the ocean, they built barges shaped like a dish, and prepared them so that they would be sealed tight. As they traveled in them, the waves and weather literally pushed them towards their promised land. It wasn't a smooth ride, by any means. They crossed an entire ocean with no oars and no sails, after all. But they couldn't get to a good place until they had passed through all the rough waters, first.

I wish I could remember clearly everything that Bishop Paul related to this account. But I didn't write it down right away, and since then, other things have caught my attention, and my memory has become a bit more vague. But I do remember that regular scripture reading and prayer were two things that he compared to sealing the barges tight, so that no water could get into them. If our spiritual selves are the boats, and we have to be pushed along a rough ocean full of trials and temptations before we can get to our promised land, we need to make sure our boats are sealed tight. Reading our scriptures and saying our daily prayers are absolutely vital. This probably isn't sounding too profound, now that I've over-summarized it and have forgotten details, but it was something I needed to be reminded of, and really absorb. I felt touched by this talk, and it again reaffirmed my desires to make positive changes in my life.

Well, life never pauses. We got home from church, had lunch, and were about to get the kids settled down for naps and quiet time. After I ate my lunch, and the kids were still working on theirs, I decided (on a whim, as I often do, when the temptation is visible) to grab a small handful of treats to enjoy. Jesse saw me, and made a remark about how I "always complain" about my weight, and then I go and grab a treat so casually.

I'm not one to be super sensitive about my weight. I know I'm overweight, I know I should work harder at getting back into shape, but all in all, it comes back to my earlier-mentioned problem. It's one of the many, many, many things I feel like I need to fix about myself, and since it's one of so many, I end up just shoving it all away, because it's too overwhelming to deal with it all. In order to start fixing something, you have to pick which something needs to take priority, and I never could get my head wrapped around that enough to do anything.

Bottom line, Jesse's words didn't hurt (well, except for the use of "complain", because I really don't. I've barely started saying anything at all to him about it, and it certainly hasn't been to "complain"). We regularly tease each other about how out-of-shape we've gotten over the years. Packing pictures away for our recent move really shocked Jesse - he saw our first year anniversary photo, and could hardly believe it was him in the picture, it looked so different. I feel the same way about myself, a lot of times. That slim girl who got married? She looks so different from what I look like now. So, no, his words didn't necessarily hurt me, or shock me. But his tone did. I heard what he said and instantly reacted: I sank unceremoniously to a chair, my face surely revealing the pain I felt, and I got silent. After my mind processed things for several moments, I whispered, voice cracking, "Jesse... That really hurt my feelings."

He apologized immediately, of course. The number of times we've fought or hurt each other over the past 9 years could be counted on less than than 10 fingers. Our personalities mingle in such a way that it simply doesn't happen often at all. But for once, it didn't matter that he meant no harm, or that I would normally just brush him off and not even care. No, this time, my mind was already completely focused- and had been, for quite some time- on all the ways I simply wasn't good enough. Self-control with the treats? Yeah, that's kinda high on the list- it represents both a pretty big weakness of mine, and a major contributor to the whole weight thing. I heard his apology, but it also turned into an explanation about how he was just pointing something out, not trying to be mean. But of course, having a weakness pointed out to you in a tone that sounds awfully derisive, even if it wasn't meant to be, is something that can hurt you when you're already plenty focused on it, and feeling guilty enough on your own.

Seeing that he wasn't really getting why I was suddenly so hurt, and I was feeling trapped by yet another weakness (my difficulty with speaking my feelings while holding any semblance of composure), I began feeling very low and very frustrated. I could feel the tears filling up in my eyes, and I quickly left the room just as they started to spill over. I felt immediately guilty about that, too - I can't remember the last time I cried because of something between myself and my husband. I didn't want him to feel guilty about my current self-esteem issues, and I knew that leaving the room crying would probably do that to him. Nevertheless, I needed to cry, and I needed to do it without the audience of my children.

I walked swiftly to my room, flopped onto the bed, buried my face in the pillow, and let it all come out. All those days and weeks of not feeling good enough, feeling like a failure... the endless cycle of thoughts that reminded me of exactly why I don't measure up, exactly what's wrong with me, how I'm weak and pathetic. Each thought ran through my head in rapid circles, and the more I was left alone, the stronger I sobbed into my pillow.

Finally, Jesse came. I wished he would have come immediately... I wondered to myself why he didn't chase after me to make sure I was okay (my ideals sound like they're out of a fiction novel, sometimes). Later, it became obvious that he wanted to make sure the kids were settled down and taken care of so he could talk to me without being interrupted. I suppose I'm thankful for that. I'm not sure it would have turned out alright if we had been constantly bothered by the children.

We had a very quiet, honest talk. I managed to get my thoughts across without completely butchering them, and the tears kept coming, just like you would expect when I'm trying to express myself. The gist of the conversation was that I felt so bad about myself. Jesse had no idea that I felt bad enough that his one comment could send me over the edge and cause a crying spree. He asked me what, exactly, had me feeling so down. "Everything!" I cried. As if that could fully explain it! But I eventually tried to explain it better for him, and he was very tender and did his best to understand and comfort me. It would have been enough for me that he just listened so well, and held me while I cried. But he helped me so much more.

Finally, he suggested that as overwhelming as everything is, and since I've had such a hard time just getting started with anything, I should really just work on the scriptures and prayer. Like I know should be the first priority. He admitted that he needed to work on that, too, so we would simply start together- right away, that night. And he reminded me of something we hear constantly in the church: That if you do what you're supposed to do and have faith, everything else will fall into place. He then embraced me, and did his best to try to get me to smile again, snuffly-nosed and blotchy-faced as I was by this point. It felt completely goofy to smile in the state I was in, but smile I did, and I truly did feel so much better by this point. Sometimes, you just have to cry something out, and get someone to listen, and things will start to settle themselves. Keeping things bottled up inside just makes for a worse situation... I really need to work on opening up more often. But what really touched my heart was that after I smiled, and we embraced once more, Jesse again apologized for hurting my feelings... and then he started crying, saying how much he loved me. There is nothing on earth more sweet to me than a man who is full enough with emotion that he starts crying. My heart absolutely soared.

When it came time that night to start back up our scripture reading, Jesse convinced me that we should start with the Pearl of Great Price. It seemed a very random place to start, for me. Generally, in church curriculum, the Pearl of Great Price is tacked on at the end of other works, and usually not at the start. Jesse's argument was that it's a fairly short portion of the scriptures, and both easy and fun to read. It had been quite some time since I had read through the Pearl of Great Price (um, since college??), so I went along with it, though I was still a bit unsure.

This could not have been coincidence. I fully believe that Heavenly Father needed to send me a message, to speak to me through the scriptures. And somehow He put it into my husband's head exactly where it was that we should begin.

We opened up to the first chapter of Moses. It immediately begins with God coming to Moses, talking with him face-to-face. In the space of only a few verses, he addresses Moses three times as His son, really making sure that the message is coming across:

• Verse 4: Behold, thou art my son.
• Verse 6: Moses, my son.
• Verse 7: Moses, my son.

God then grants Moses a vision of the the world, from beginning to end, and every being within in. Moses marveled and wondered at it all. And then the presence of God was withdrawn, and Moses was left to himself again. He suddenly felt very insignificant and perhaps even a bit dejected:

Moses 1:10
...I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed.

Man is nothing. I sure can relate to that, I thought. And as soon as Moses is in this state of mind, Satan comes and speaks to him, tempting him (and I can just picture it all with a mocking sneer on his face), saying "Moses, son of man, worship me".

And here's where I just about fell apart - it was my turn to read out loud, and I barely managed to choke it out between my sobs:

Moses 1:13
And it came to pass that Moses looked upon Satan and said: Who art thou? For behold, I am a son of God, in the similitude of his Only Begotten; and where is thy glory, that I should worship thee?

Moses taught me such a huge lesson here: Even when he was feeling worthless, like nothing, and faced with Satan's lies, he still remembered who he was: a child of God. And as a child of God, he is worth so much, and has so much divine potential. I am worth so much, as a daughter of God, and I have so much potential. My Heavenly Father loves me. He knows me. He is here for me in my struggles, and will support me with gentleness and unconditional love. So many endless blessings are there for me to enjoy, they are promised to me - I simply have to reach out for them. (See this month's Visiting Teaching message on the eternal potential of women, for yet another thing that ties into this whole experience for me.)

I am so grateful for the way Sunday played out. I'm grateful for the incident that caused my feelings to get hurt - it was a shove in the right direction, the start of a very good thing. Just like the Jaredites who had to be pushed along rough ocean waters to reach the promised land, I needed a pretty forceful emotional shove to get my spiritual self going back in the right direction.

And you know? Jesse was right, of course. We've read our scriptures and said our prayers daily since Sunday. And even though I haven't been hit with a spiritual ton of bricks with every scripture session or personal prayer, I have noticed a HUGE difference in my days since we started this. I haven't lost my temper. I've faced individual problems with much more patience and love. I've been more eager and able to get something accomplished. I've even invited my children to help me in the kitchen, and did it happily, something that definitely is not par for course around here. I saw more beauty in the world surrounding me, and felt more wonder and awe for the simple things in life. Even in the face of Alex having a cold and sleeping in only half-hour bits and pieces throughout the days and getting crankier and crankier by the minute, I kept my patience and still had a smile at the end of the day. Normally, those days are enough to make me want to run screaming by the time Jesse gets home from work. So yes, definitely - this whole thing was a shove in the right direction. And my testimony of the power of daily scripture study and prayer has been renewed. I can see without a doubt the power it has had to change my life for the better, and it happened almost instantaneously.

Yeah, I still have a lot that I need to work on and improve about myself. But you know? With the right perspective, it doesn't feel as oppressive. I can handle it.

D&C 78:18
“Be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. The kingdom is yours and the blessings thereof are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours.”

2nd Nephi 2:25
Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

Be happy. Love yourself. Remember that God loves you, and that you are His child. You are worth everything in the world.