One of the life lessons my parents instilled in me was the belief that everything has a way of working out. My Mom would tell me it was like doing the wash. Things may get dirty but they will eventually be clean again and that, in some cases, it just takes a whole lot more detergent. I think about this concept often and have added to it my own belief in what some would call “Karma” or comeuppance. We reap what we sow, it’s just in the waiting that life can sometimes seem unfair and a belief in deity can be challenged.
I try not to look back too often to excuse my today’s but sometimes, when I have to make difficult decisions or change my plans, my yesterdays reap their ugly heads and my heart fails me. Early this year my Bishop recognized that the influence, as little as it was, that came from my past was destroying me. He put forward a plan and for the first time I really got angry at God. It’s ironic why I didn’t get mad at Bishop H. I guess that comes from my absolute testimony in his representing the Big Guy to me.
I took what he had to say and I went to the mountains and screamed, in thoughts anyway, to the injustice that was being asked of me. Why me, why do I have to give up and do it all myself? Wasn’t I already the sole custodian and caregiver? Bishop H asked me to search my soul and it was then that I realized that my soul was more in jeopardy then it ever had been. I was losing my religion and in the end, that was what some were expecting of me, and as sad as that is to say, it was so ironically true.
I remember my drive to the mountains; I remember my pleading for reprieve and for the answers to the unfairness of my life. I remember begging to be released from the covenants I had made because the requirements being asked of me were too great. I still can feel the sting of the salt from the overflow of tears and the heart ache of just the unfairness of it all.
As I rounded the corner and found myself at my destination a still small voice rested on my soul and gave reverence to the place I was at. To me, there isn’t much difference to the celestial room and those grand edifices to God’s handiwork. The spirit is at both places, just stop and feel it.
I was alone and I was peaceful and I sat and I listened. What I heard was the most beautiful song I had heard to that point in my life. It was the song of trust and understanding and of knowing that being angry was okay but that in fact He did love me and that doing the task at hand would give me great peace and allow my life, even my family’s lives, to move forward.
Well, fast forward eight months. Here I am, no, here we are, happier than we have ever been as a family and content and peaceful and all because I was able to put aside the unfairness and just listen. Some of the greatest lessons we will have come after the greatest trials of our faith. Being Angry with God is not a sin, staying angry is.
To my Bishop; Thank-you. Your wisdom and kindness and your trust in the mantle that has been given you is inspiring and without it my family would not be where we are at today. And to those who live in such turmoil, stop and listen. Hear the song in your heart that draws you to correct choices and follow them. Don’t let the anger overshadow the wisdom of a healthy life. And above all else, have faith in “Karma” or the knowledge that all things in life will eventually be worked out, just exercise the patience and the faith to know it is so.