I found this entry I wrote over a year ago and thought since I have a blog now I would post it.
May 23, 2007 
If I had a blog, here would be my entry for last week:
Some memories of some things that happened shortly after I was baptized have been haunting me for the past several months. I have felt several times that I needed to talk to my dad about it. Because he is the bishop, I was afraid that meant that I had not fully repented. It took me a long time to finally talk to him, but when I did I had a sweet experience. I got a confirmation that I was on good terms with my Heavenly Father, that I had been forgiven, and I got some good advice and a father's blessing. I went away feeling relieved and lightened. But that evening after my dad got home, I watched him. He was exhausted. I have seen him spiritually drained, or burdened by problems in the ward many times, but this time I knew that I had a part in that. It seemed unfair--I go away feeling so much better, and he feels the weight. It made the role of my Savior taking upon him my sins so much more real to me. Do we realize when we feel better it is because He is carrying the burden? I felt so sorrowful.
If I had a blog, here would be my entry for last week:
Some memories of some things that happened shortly after I was baptized have been haunting me for the past several months. I have felt several times that I needed to talk to my dad about it. Because he is the bishop, I was afraid that meant that I had not fully repented. It took me a long time to finally talk to him, but when I did I had a sweet experience. I got a confirmation that I was on good terms with my Heavenly Father, that I had been forgiven, and I got some good advice and a father's blessing. I went away feeling relieved and lightened. But that evening after my dad got home, I watched him. He was exhausted. I have seen him spiritually drained, or burdened by problems in the ward many times, but this time I knew that I had a part in that. It seemed unfair--I go away feeling so much better, and he feels the weight. It made the role of my Savior taking upon him my sins so much more real to me. Do we realize when we feel better it is because He is carrying the burden? I felt so sorrowful.
Then I had the following experience:
A few months ago my two year old found a pen and scribbled in all the white squares of my mom's patchwork quilt on the spare bed. When I first noticed it I thought--the blanket is ruined--yet another thing we are going to have to replace! (my mom's glasses, a portable dvd player, blinds, and several others have already been replaced). When we removed the bedding, I decided to try and wash the blanket and maybe we could get out some of the ink and save the blanket. So I got some spray and wash and a tooth brush and started scrubbing the first square that had just a few lines. After some good scrubbing, it lightened and eventually disappeared. I was thrilled! Maybe I wouldn't have to replace it after all.
But as I kept scrubbing the squares, I thought about the atonement--it occurred to me that the Savior could have felt like I did. Because of my love for my son, I gladly "suffered" (scrubbing) that his mistakes would be erased and we could all forget what he had done.
I have also been noticing lately how often I have been taught by the withdrawal of the Spirit. For instance, I was teaching the youth Sunday School class, feeling the Spirit and the lesson was going well, then I mentioned a movie I had seen about an atheist who nearly died on a mountain--even when he thought he was going to die he still said he didn't believe in God. He survived, but gave God no credit--even though to me it seemed obvious how many times God had saved him.
As I told the story, I felt the Spirit withdraw. My first thought was--Oh, I deviated from the lesson material--oops. Then later realized--the spirit would not remain and confirm what I was saying (as I quoted the atheist's view)-- it could not. I have noticed several similar experiences where I have felt the Spirit withdraw and then as I evaluate the situation, I am taught where I went wrong. I have also learned a lot from hind sight where I now see I was being prompted to do something and didn't follow. Example, I bought groceries at Smiths and had a 5 cents off coupon for gas and thought, "I should fill up here now." After debating the idea in my head, I decided to go to Costco and fill up. Later, I found out that Costco was the same price, so I went back to fill up at Smiths--only to find that gas prices had raised 10-15 cents a gallon all over town including Smiths (which is significant when filling a large tank like we have).
In all of these experiences, I have felt a strong feeling of love from my Heavenly Father. How can we be chastised and feel loved at the same time? Then I thought of my son. Most of the time I tell him "no," I am training him. I know that he doesn't know, or that he is learning and so I feel no anger as I direct his paths--often by telling him what he shouldn't do. When he was younger he would look at me as he put his hand on something-- asking for my approval. If I said no sometimes he would do it anyway, but most of the time he would leave it and go for something else. Now when I tell him no, often he will stop or not repeat it. But it is not unusual that he has to be reminded many times before he learns what he should not do. Only when he KNOWS something is wrong and does it intentionally, do I feel any anger or disappointment.
The subject of excommunication came up in my sunday school class recently, and I realized that I have a strong testimony of the love of the Lord for the person who is brought before a disciplinary council. The reason that those councils exist is for the good of that person. It breaks those covenants to save them from further damning themselves and allows them a chance to start afresh. Then he still isn't left alone, there is one who is assigned to watch over him (the one) and bring him safely back to the fold.
A few months ago my two year old found a pen and scribbled in all the white squares of my mom's patchwork quilt on the spare bed. When I first noticed it I thought--the blanket is ruined--yet another thing we are going to have to replace! (my mom's glasses, a portable dvd player, blinds, and several others have already been replaced). When we removed the bedding, I decided to try and wash the blanket and maybe we could get out some of the ink and save the blanket. So I got some spray and wash and a tooth brush and started scrubbing the first square that had just a few lines. After some good scrubbing, it lightened and eventually disappeared. I was thrilled! Maybe I wouldn't have to replace it after all.
But as I kept scrubbing the squares, I thought about the atonement--it occurred to me that the Savior could have felt like I did. Because of my love for my son, I gladly "suffered" (scrubbing) that his mistakes would be erased and we could all forget what he had done.
I have also been noticing lately how often I have been taught by the withdrawal of the Spirit. For instance, I was teaching the youth Sunday School class, feeling the Spirit and the lesson was going well, then I mentioned a movie I had seen about an atheist who nearly died on a mountain--even when he thought he was going to die he still said he didn't believe in God. He survived, but gave God no credit--even though to me it seemed obvious how many times God had saved him.
As I told the story, I felt the Spirit withdraw. My first thought was--Oh, I deviated from the lesson material--oops. Then later realized--the spirit would not remain and confirm what I was saying (as I quoted the atheist's view)-- it could not. I have noticed several similar experiences where I have felt the Spirit withdraw and then as I evaluate the situation, I am taught where I went wrong. I have also learned a lot from hind sight where I now see I was being prompted to do something and didn't follow. Example, I bought groceries at Smiths and had a 5 cents off coupon for gas and thought, "I should fill up here now." After debating the idea in my head, I decided to go to Costco and fill up. Later, I found out that Costco was the same price, so I went back to fill up at Smiths--only to find that gas prices had raised 10-15 cents a gallon all over town including Smiths (which is significant when filling a large tank like we have).
In all of these experiences, I have felt a strong feeling of love from my Heavenly Father. How can we be chastised and feel loved at the same time? Then I thought of my son. Most of the time I tell him "no," I am training him. I know that he doesn't know, or that he is learning and so I feel no anger as I direct his paths--often by telling him what he shouldn't do. When he was younger he would look at me as he put his hand on something-- asking for my approval. If I said no sometimes he would do it anyway, but most of the time he would leave it and go for something else. Now when I tell him no, often he will stop or not repeat it. But it is not unusual that he has to be reminded many times before he learns what he should not do. Only when he KNOWS something is wrong and does it intentionally, do I feel any anger or disappointment.
The subject of excommunication came up in my sunday school class recently, and I realized that I have a strong testimony of the love of the Lord for the person who is brought before a disciplinary council. The reason that those councils exist is for the good of that person. It breaks those covenants to save them from further damning themselves and allows them a chance to start afresh. Then he still isn't left alone, there is one who is assigned to watch over him (the one) and bring him safely back to the fold.
4 comments:
Thank you for showing us your view of the scene of the Atonement. All views bless us to be able to think more deeply on something we can not understand. I'm grateful I get to view you as a mother. You are a sweet, devoted, patient, and wise one.
nice thoughts.
I love this post Crystal. Thank heaven the Savior was willing to suffer.
We moved the pine tree from our other house when we moved. Now it is 20 feet tall, and we couldn't move it. We moved another small one like it from the yard.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I love you Crystal..
Mouse catcher..
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