Unorganized (but probably important) thoughts

I was talking to a dear friend of mine last night about a rather unpleasant exchange she had over the weekend with her father.  Their relationship is strained, to put it politely, and unfortunately that is largely because he is a stubbornly selfish and prideful man.  He is not without his strengths:  in a physical sense, he is a very hard worker, putting in long, hard hours at a physically demanding career;  he is well-studied in the words of scriptures and the writings of modern prophets;  he is quite intelligent.  These strengths, however, have not been enough to save him from his faults--it is ever true of human nature that most other vices or sins can almost always be traced back to the root causes of selfishness or pride.  His unwillingness, it would seem, to confront his own weaknesses in any real meaningful way has certainly hurt his wives, his children and his extended family members and many friends, but has probably hurt no one more than himself.  He is increasingly frustrated and alone--for this, in his stubbornness, he blames others around him for being difficult and defiant.  

His supposed intention in coming to visit his daughter's home was to "try to fix their relationship".  However, it didn't take long for him to start making accusations about her behavior, rather than humbly ask what he could do to make things work better.  He actually told her at one point that it is her responsibility to change in order to make the relationship work because he is old and set in his ways and she is young and still capable of change.  Later he called to apologize, telling her that his intention really was to make things better but "apparently I don't know how".

For someone smart and well read, it is remarkable to me that he doesn't see the conflict in those two statements.  For one thing, it is never too late to change (the exception being, of course, the unpardonable sin, which few people will even have the opportunity, much less the inclination, to commit).   That is the point of the parable of the vineyard workers.  Some came at the break of day and labored til nightfall.  Some came just before the day's work was complete.  All received the same reward.  The statement that he knows that something is wrong, but doesn't know why something's wrong or how to fix it, I believe.  His pattern of behavior would suggest that he truly doesn't know where he is wrong, even if it is glaringly obvious to those around him.  When she told me about his self-pitying, self-defeating statement that "apparently I don't know how", I immediately thought of the book of Ether.  "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness.  I give men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me;  for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."  The Lord promises us that if we come before him in humility, with a genuine desire to change, he will show us where and what the problem is, and how to fix it.  Indeed, he will turn that weakness into a strength.  What a marvelous promise that is.

I thought about that a lot last night and this morning, because while unfortunately this man is not the only person I know that suffers from the malady of self-delusion or self-oblivion to this extreme, we all suffer from it to some degree or another.  It is often easier for others to view our faults (or how to fix them) than it is for us to see them ourselves.  We all have times in our lives when things aren't going well or relationships that are difficult and we don't understand why, and it may very well be our fault and we just don't recognize it.  Sometimes a loving family member or friend can see it and is willing to point it out to us--I have had that happen a couple times myself and was grateful that it happened moments when I had been sufficiently humbled to hear the love with which they spoke, rather than the accusation I wanted to hear it as.  But often we must find out by going to our knees and asking the Lord humbly to show us where we're off course and how to change.  And he will.  I know that he will.

This is something I think about a lot when I'm pregnant.  People always ask if I'm excited, as several people have the last few weeks as my belly has gotten rounder, and I am.  I think every expectant mom, whether its her first pregnancy or her eighth, feels a range of emotions from excitement to dread.  Pregnancy, more than any other affect, humbles me.  I begin thinking more carefully about the gift of creating life and the responsibility attached to that privilege--the responsibility to care for a son or daughter of God physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually.   I think about all I am expected to teach these little ones and it can seem overwhelming.  Everyone knows that a child learns best by example, and so I become more aware than ever of the areas I'm falling short.  I start to think about whether or not I am going to be the example this child needs to withstand all the trials and temptations that will surely come their way.  I am more aware of times when I sound a bit arrogant or overly self-conscious (two different sides of the same coin--pride).   I am sorrier for moments of inappropriate sarcasm, lightmindedness or flippancy that at other times I probably would think nothing of.  I am keenly aware of wasted time or opportunities--when I engage in meaningless entertainment at times when I could be teaching my children or studying or realize I let a great teaching moment slip by because I wasn't in tune enough to sense it at the moment.

I think of Alma the Younger and the incredible anguish he must have experienced as "I was racked with eternal torment, for my soul was. . .racked with all my sins. . .I did remember all my sins and iniquities, for which I was tormented with the pains of hell; yea, I saw that I had rebelled against my God, and that I had not kept his holy commandments."   That's probably why most of us (certainly those at the most extreme) refuse to make the changes we ought to:  to recognize and know our sins is difficult and painful.  To make a true repentance, we must feel Godly sorrow, which does indeed live up to its name.  That is a hard choice to face.  It is bitter and painful for me in moments when I see what I have lost, and even more so, when I see what my children have lost or how much of their time I have wasted in getting my act together. To know the weight of our sins enough to feel profound sorrow and make a full repentance can be painful and wretched.  But the relief is so sweet, the renewal so joyful.  As Alma continued, "There could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains.  Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy."

We often put off true repentance, true change, because its just too hard, or we just aren't ready or we just don't want to face it.  How much more painful, I must wonder, would it be to not face that sorrow and difficulty here but instead to stand in the presence of God himself and have full knowledge of all our sins?  What would it be like to stand before our maker and realize what we had robbed our spouse or our children of because of our own unwillingness to take a step forward, even when it is difficult to do so?  I pray that the Lord will help me to develop enough humility and strengthen me with enough endurance that I never have to find out.  I suspect that the Lord is more merciful than any of us would guess, but I don't want to take too many chances.  He says that if we are obedient he will welcome us home by saying, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant.  There is a place prepared for you in the mansions of my father."  I hope that I can at least be faithful enough to get an affectionate, "That'll do.  There's a cottage in the back for you."