Praying for a Jerk

If you’ve ever been in the sixth grade (and I’m assuming most of you have had that delightful experience) you will know that it is a time of drama and difficulty for the contenders of that epic occurrence. Physical, mental, and emotional upheavals are almost compulsory as those lovely tweens perilously reach for fleeting adulthood all the while frantically clawing to hang on to their slipping childhood. This ballet of life is completed with all the grace a penguin who has found himself straddling two icebergs that have decided to part ways. Disaster seems imminent.

Being the nice parents we are, my hubby Buns and I chose this time to uproot our eldest son and transport him 1500 miles to the foreign culture of the South. Our family first moved to the great state of Texas the summer before Dubs was to enter the sixth grade and it was an experience for all of us.

Socially Dubbers did well with his peer group. He was large for his age and had some physical prowess and that was accepted among the football loving natives. His relations with adults and in particular certain authority figures was another story.

You could say rural West Texas is a little old fashioned in what they regard as acceptable behavior in children. Spare the rod and spoil the child is rule. Many parents speak about how all kids need is a good “beating” once in a while so they will behave. Adults call for absolute obedience and respect just by virtue of the fact that they survived into adulthood. Children are to obey and not question anything, and a yes Ma’am and no Sir are the only allowable replies.

This was a shock to all of us but especially difficult for Dubs. He was not one to talk back or cause upset just for the fun of it, but he was raised and is a person who naturally questions dubious reasoning. We encouraged him to think for himself and to speak up against injustice. This did not go over well with one of his teachers.

One day Dubs committed the cardinal sin of challenging a principle this teacher was relating to the class. Honestly, I don’t even remember what the topic was but I know that I agreed with him. He wasn’t disrespectful in the way he did this, but she was insulted and sent him off to the principal’s office for the perceived insubordination.

Buns and I were summoned and told that our child had refused to say yes ma’am to a teacher and had questioned her authority in class. He was to be punished; either “swats” or in-school suspension for a day. I was incensed at the ridiculous nature of the situation but explained our position that we don’t allow anyone to hit our kids, regardless of policy. Unfortunately, our unorthodox standing on the matter just added fuel to the flames.

For the months following the situation that teacher singled Dubs out every chance she got. She accused him of things he didn’t do, harassed him on the playground, and acted like (for lack of a better word) a jerk. When I would contact her about what was going on I was met with sneering insolence and the communication we directed to administration just seemed to make things worse. Buns and I had no idea what to do and the bullying was wearing on our sweet boy. He became angry and withdrawn and started missing school frequently. The whole thing seemed completely unfair.

One night I was preparing a Sunday School lesson and the material included the Sermon on the Mount. As I read the words of the Savior it seemed He was speaking directly to me. “But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” I was angry at this woman and the situation, she was indeed my enemy. The words penetrated my soul.

With some resentment and hesitation I got down on my knees and prayed for her. Then I went in to talk to Dubs and read with him those same words. We decided that we had done what we could and now it was up to the Lord. We would pray for this teacher every day even though neither one of us really wanted to.

In the back of my mind I expected a miracle to take place. Surely all our good will and prayers for her would add up in our mercy account and that teacher would change. Instead, the year went on and the irritating behavior continued. Dubs learned to keep his head down around her and managed to stay out of her way.

Each morning before school he and I would ask the Lord to bless our enemy  but nothing seemed to happen. She didn’t change her attitude towards us one iota. After several weeks of this experiment we noticed something else instead. The anger we both felt began to dissipate. Our perspective changed and we realized that this trial was a growing time. He and I both found ourselves able to forgive her and our prayers together became more sincere. I stopped calling her names in my head and elsewhere. We both came to understand that much of the problem came from culture differences. We repented. We both felt the love of the Savior through the Spirit on the hard days and instead of the Lord changing our enemy He changed us.

C.S. Lewis said “I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time- waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God- it changes me.”

It was precisely because Dubs was willing to follow the Savior in a difficult situation that hearts were changed and testimonies of forgiveness grew. As we prayed- God didn’t change, that teacher didn’t change, but we did and the result was a peace that surpassed all understanding. It was a lesson that neither of us will soon forget.

Thankfully, that teacher moved on to some other school district so she couldn't torture Dubbers for yet another year. I think it is one of the tender mercies of the Lord things worked out that way and hopefully one day she will learn what we did. That anger only hurts the one who holds it and peace is found through forgiveness.

Cheers,

Brenda

How have following the commandments brought unexpected positive outcomes in your life?

Has the Lord used the bad behavior of another to bless your life?

Sam's Story

This is Sam

I have always admired large families. In my teen years several of my close friends were the products of those types. Seven kids, ten kids, nine kids. Those households were crazy and messy and fun. This had an impact on me.  I ordered up a soccer team of boys for my future expectations.

After getting married and checking the first two slots off of my all-boys roster in quick succession, the genetic quirks that had limited my mom to four kids and my grandmother to three manifested themselves. For eight long years we tried and failed to have our third. The doctors were not encouraging; my body looked at pregnancy like it was a peanut butter and onion sandwich. Blech, no thanks.

I was beyond grateful for the two awesome boys I had and finally came to terms with the fact that it just wasn’t in the cards that we should have another baby. It was then, once I had accepted God’s will that a miracle occurred. 

That miracle arrived after a tumultuous 8 ½ months of health issues and eventual bed rest. No kidding that little super-pink bundle of joy nearly did me in. It was such a rocky road that when it was over and we had a healthy baby girl in our arms I said to Buns “never again!” 

Life went on and due to the disturbing realization that it takes money to raise three kids, Buns and I found ourselves on the hamster wheel. I worked at a bank days, he did technical support nights. We would pass each other coming and going and our conversations happened on phone calls at break times. 

I would come home from stressful fast paced workdays and cook dinner, help with homework, do laundry, and make sure everyone was bathed and ready for the next day. Then there was the other million things that moms do. On top of that our little girl had nonstop ear infections. She and I sat up countless nights, rocking and trying everything to soothe the pain in her ears. I was exhausted, and because of the economic conditions of the area, didn’t see any possibility of getting out of our hamster cage anytime soon.

Even with the situation not being ideal, we were happy and I would think to myself “man I sure am glad we are done having kids, I just couldn’t do it again.” 

You can imagine my surprise, when on one of the rare days a week Buns and I were home together, he said to me “Brenda, I feel like we need to have another baby.” After doing a proverbial spit take I nearly shouted “you can’t be serious?” 

So that you don’t get the wrong impression, Buns is not a person who likes watching his spouse run herself into the ground. He gets no joy out of torturing her (unless it is to fluff the covers once in a while). He knew our situation but had been having the impression for some time and had prayerfully considered it. He knew how I was going to react, but could not keep ignoring that prompting.

After a few minutes of hyperventilating, I decided that there was no way God was going to ask this of me. He knew I was going to get sick. He knew it was going to take everything I had to be pregnant and keep up what I was doing. There was no way he was going to ask me to do this. It was too hard. I decided to pray about it, confident that the answer was going to be that Buns was just engaging in wishful thinking. 

I chose to ask my question a few days later in a quiet spot in our bedroom. I started off telling Heavenly Father all of the reasons this was a bad idea. It wasn’t that I didn’t want another child, I did, but the circumstances were just not right. I couldn’t do it. I then told Father that I would do His will whatever that was, but I was certain I knew what the answer would be. As I knelt there I had a sense of peace fill my heart but didn’t get a yes or no. I stayed for a while waiting but nothing came. 

I got up and headed out into the hall. As I did, I glanced over at a small table that was next to the door. There on the table was a copy of the Ensign magazine. The cover picture was a beautiful painting by Carl Bloch of Christ, He was pointing to a little boy. They were both looking expectantly at me. I stopped in my tracks and could not tear my eyes from that picture. 

Frozen in that moment, the Spirit flooded me with the knowledge that there was a little boy, a member of our family, who was waiting to join us. His name was Sam and nothing would be complete without him. All the worry about work, and kids, energy, and health evaporated instantly. Sam was waiting and we needed him. 

Tears streaming down my face I went to tell Buns what I had learned. Even with that powerful confirmation of the Spirit I knew it had taken almost 9 years the last time around. Sam would probably take a decade to arrive.

One month later I was pregnant. 

As expected, there were serious trials to be had and overcome in the short term. And even with the conviction that I was doing the Lord's will, there was some major whining done on my part. It was hard, it was scary, there were many moments spent by myself, and Buns, and others praying for us. Priesthood blessings were had. Once again, bed rest was impatiently endured. Thankfully Sammy arrived healthy and happy. 

Not too much later our life in the world of hamsters ended with a move across the country to a place where the pace is slow and everyone has a drawl. We were directed  to a situation that allowed us to be together, to take care of our kids in the way we wanted, and to slow down.

Now as I look at my precocious, adorable, long-lashed Sam I shake my head at the foolishness of my selfish attitude. I don't know better than the Lord what will bring joy into my life. My perspective is so limited, why can't I let go and trust him more? Part of me knows that it is because I am a wimp and with the best blessings there always seems to be hard work, faith, overcoming fear, and pain to be had before we get to the good stuff. And sometimes things don't work out the way we think they should. Sometimes they do. 

Either way when we keep doing His will the joy eventually comes, the blessing is exponentially bigger than the discomfort of the trial preceding it, and He is able to teach and bless us in completely wonderful and unexpected ways.

And sometimes that blessing will squeeze your cheeks between his little hands and say "I wuv you mom."

Cheers,

Brenda

Waiting

This morning the West Texas landscape awoke to winter, actual honest to goodness winter, where nature had laid a very delicate lace scarf of snow over the dead grass. The skies are grey, the trees are barren and a dark damp. It is a day to listen to Pearl Jam, the melancholy stuff, and ponder a little on the parts of life that don’t seem to be going as well as they should. 

There is a part of human nature that is a constant struggle between what we know can be and what currently is. Many times the gulf between the two realities seems insurmountable and it feels as if there is no hope for ever reaching our goals. Whether it is career goal, a fitness goal, a spiritual goal, a health trial, a family problem or anything that we really want sometimes our efforts are inadequate and nothing seems to change no matter how hard we work and pray and ask for help.

I know that those of you who read this have seen miracles and blessings in your life. You’ve seen prayers answered both in the affirmative and negative and you know that God is there and that He loves you. You know in your heart of hearts that He has your best interests in His safekeeping. But what about the times when the heavens are silent? What about the moments that you ask for a particular blessing that you know is worthy and nothing happens? What about the stretches when you keep working and praying and doing everything you know how to do to call down the powers of heaven and they still don’t come? 

If you’re like me frustration ensues. Anger at the continued struggle starts to kick in, and the humility and meekness that we are asked to lay at the Savior’s feet starts to fly out the window. Even with all of our past blessings staring us in the face the doubts begin to creep up on us. Doesn’t He love me enough to answer? Why has he taken this trial from someone else and not me? Why can't I stop making the same stupid mistakes?

In a talk given at BYU in 1990 President Henry B. Eyering answered the question about how to call down the powers of heaven we so desperately need.  Along with having faith, repenting, and doing good works he hit upon something that I had missed. Learning to wait upon the Lord. 

“If you pray, if you talk to God, and if you plead for the help you need, and if you thank him not only for help but for the patience and gentleness that come from not receiving all you desire right away or perhaps ever, then I promise you that you will draw closer to him. And then you will become diligent and longsuffering”  

“The Lord doesn't put us through this test just to give us a grade; he does it because the process will change us."

“Let me encourage you by telling you a story. It was told to me by my father. He told it with the intent to chuckle at himself. It was a story about his trying to do his duty, just the way you try to do your duty.

Now you have to know a little bit about my father. His name was Henry Eyring, like mine. He had done some of the things students of this university are preparing to be able to do. His work in chemistry was substantial enough to bring the honors some of you will someday have, but he was still a member of a ward of the Church with his duty to do. To appreciate this story, you have to realize that it occurred when he was nearly eighty and had bone cancer. He had bone cancer so badly in his hips that he could hardly move. The pain was great. 

Dad was the senior high councilor in his stake with the responsibility for the welfare farm. An assignment was given to weed a field of onions, so Dad assigned himself to go work on the farm.

Dad never told me how hard it was, but I have met several people who were with him that day. I talked to one of them on the phone the other night to check the story. The one I talked to said that he was weeding in the row next to Dad through much of the day. He told me the same thing that others who were there that day have told me. He said that the pain was so great that Dad was pulling himself along on his stomach with his elbows. He couldn't kneel. The pain was too great for him to kneel. Everyone who has talked to me has remarked how Dad smiled, and laughed, and talked happily with them as they worked in that field of onions. 

Liz Collins Oil Pastel http://www.lizcollinsart.com

Now, this is the joke Dad told me on himself, afterward. He said he was there at the end of the day. After all the work was finished and the onions were all weeded, someone asked him, "Henry, good heavens! You didn't pull those weeds, did you? Those weeds were sprayed two days ago, and they were going to die anyway." 

Dad just roared. He thought that was the funniest thing. He thought it was a great joke on himself. He had worked through the day in the wrong weeds. They had been sprayed and would have died anyway.

When Dad told me this story, I knew how tough it was. So I said to him, "Dad, how could you make a joke out of that? How could you take it so pleasantly?" 

He said something to me that I will never forget, and I hope you won't. He said, "Hal, I wasn't there for the weeds." 

Now, you'll be in an onion patch much of your life. So will I. It will be hard to see the powers of heaven magnifying us or our efforts. It may even be hard to see our work being of any value at all. And sometimes our work won't go well. 

But you didn't come for the weeds. You came for the Savior. And if you pray, and if you choose to be clean, and if you choose to follow God's servants, you will be able to work and wait long enough to bring down the powers of heaven. 

Teach them to never be weary of good works, but to be meek and lowly in heart; for such shall find rest to their souls. [Alma 37:33–34]

Next time I decide to do something, I think I will ask in prayer, "Heavenly Father, is this what the Lord would have me do?" And I think I will wait upon the Lord until I know. Then I might say, "Please, while I am working at it, can I remember that I am doing it for the Lord?" I promise you that if you will be patient and diligent, you will have a blessing come to you that you will know that you are doing what the Lord would have you do. And you can be blessed to remember that while you are in that onion patch, you are not there for the weeds. That will be important sometimes when the weeds don't come out easily. You can feel the approval of God. 

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] 

Dad never got better. He just got worse. So you might say, "Well, he waited upon the Lord, but he couldn't run and he couldn't walk." But that was true only in this life. There will be a day for you and me when, whatever difficulties and limitations we have here, we will have that promise fulfilled for us. We will be lifted up as on eagles' wings, and it will be those who have waited upon the Lord.”

So as we work on our shortcomings and move through the trials of our lives, if things are just not going the way we want, let us keep working knowing that we aren't there for the weeds and that the process is what takes us home. It will make all the difference.

Cheers,

Brenda