"We are not born into this world with fixed habits. Neither do we inherit a noble character. Instead, as children of God, we are given the privilege and opportunity of choosing which way of life we will follow—which habits we will form. Confucius said that the nature of men is always the same. It is their habits that separate them. Good habits are not acquired simply by making good resolves, though the thought must precede the action. Good habits are developed in the workshop of our daily lives. It is not in the great moments of test and trial that character is built. That is only when it is displayed. The habits that direct our lives and form our character are fashioned in the often uneventful, commonplace routine of life. They are acquired by practice."--Delbert L. Stapley, "Good Habits Develop Good Character", Ensign, Nov. 1974, 20
Yesterday, a friend told me about this fantastic website: www.readthescriptures.com. It is AMAZING! You can create reading assignments for yourself like, to read the Sunday School lesson each week or have one of the children's stories from "Book of Mormon Stories" sent to you or a customized assignment of your own. Then when you read, you hit complete and it keeps track of your reading. If you read on their website (as opposed to just reading the text from the email they send you), you can highlight and take notes and make journal entries. This is such a fantastic and useful website. Our stake HFPE yesterday focused on preparedness in all aspects, but the best part was the talk by Sister Barbara Pace about spiritual preparedness and how we keep our lamps full of oil: daily scripture study, frequent prayer (as in, daily is not enough - twice daily or more), temple attendance, and visiting teaching. WOW - then this website, and this quote, remind me that *I* have responsibility to do MY part in forming good habits and becoming better. How exciting and how emPOWERing!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Listen to the still, small voice. . .
Listen, Listen. . .
All of my life, long before I was introduced to LDS missionaries and the LDS church and all that entails, I have noticed a special feeling that I get when I find something that is good or true. I may not have felt it very frequently through my teen years, but I did feel it and recognize it.
As a young adult, I went on a weekend trip to a church-y thing in Indiana. I went with a group from the United Methodist Church in Columbia which I occasionally attended. I wasn't a solid part of that "group" but they were welcoming and I was curious about this odd group of people who were so wrapped up in God. I was conflicted between the partying life I led in college and the responsible, religious life with which I was raised. Both seemed so extreme: like, go ahead and keep partying and come try drugs too or do a complete 180 and become devoted to church as a minister or layperson who talks to every stranger on the street about coming to Jesus . . the kind of people you cross the street or duck behind a cereal display to avoid.
Neither one really felt right. I partied to fit in with my friends and because it helped me loosen up and let go of my shyness. While it was fun, it didn't feel "right" and it left me with guilt. I was just one of the sheep following the herd. On the other hand, when I went to church (having chosen the Methodist church only because I was raised in it), I felt a bit like an impostor (pretending to be virtuous long enough to go to church and feel better) and I wasn't entirely convinced that going to church was anything more than an attempt to please my parents from a distance. They were all very nice, but I was really on the fence.
I remember very little of that weekend in Indiana, except for one thing. Over the course of the weekend, in spite of my "impostor complex" and in spite of feeling really weird around people who were just overflowing with hallelujahs and amens, I felt that "feeling" confirm to me that God is real. The rest of the stuff (the hallelujahs, talking to everyone about being "saved," and the thought of abandoning all fun to be "good") still left me feeling a little weird, but I knew then that God was not a fairy tale. Now, what remained to be seen (or figured out), was whether or not God actually cared what I did or if he wouldn't mind if I slept around or tried pot or followed along with whatever else my friends were doing. Because we already know he has a soft spot for sheep, right?
I didn't have a name for that feeling at that time, but I knew what it meant, or what I thought it meant. This morning as I've been going back over my lesson for Sunday School (topic: I will tell you in your mind and in your heart by the Holy Ghost), I was reminded that I knew what this feeling was long before I knew what to call it. This feeling, that many call a burning in the bosom, is really a direct communication from God. It often comes in the form of thoughts or feelings in our hearts that enlighten us and help us to feel peace. When God communicates with us in such a delicate way, it's so important for us to pay attention to the message. It's difficult to ignore a burning bush or a heavenly visitor, but we do not need a marvelous, miraculous thing to communicate with God. President Joseph F. Smith's said:
"When I as a boy first started out in the ministry, I would frequently go out and ask the Lord to show me some marvelous thing, in order that I might receive a testimony. But the Lord withheld marvels from me, and showed me the truth, line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little, until he made me to know the truth from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and until doubt and fear had been absolutely purged from me. He did not have to send an angel from the heavens to do this, nor did he have to speak with the trump of an archangel. By the whisperings of the still, small voice of the Spirit of the living God, he gave to me the testimony I possess. And by this principle and power he will give to all the children of men a knowledge of the truth."
I often think of my conversion in terms of the August day that I went to church with the sister missionaries and listened to a talk specifically about the Book of Mormon and felt that whisper of the Holy Ghost in a way I could no longer deny. . .but really, I had been in the process of conversion for some time before that. First, I began to feel dissatisfied with my life as it was. Then I became certain that God was real, though I still wasn't sure if he objected to my partying ways. Then I met the man who introduced me to the missionaries and gradually learned that Mormons are not total freaks and weirdos. Then I met the sister missionaries who gradually, gently taught me line upon line about the truth.
As I look back now, I can see the Holy Spirit whispering to me all along the way, even when it wasn't dramatic enough to stop me in my tracks, immediately. As I go back to preparing the Sunday School lesson after writing this, I think I'll be paying special attention to learning how to recognize the Spirit each day, rather than 15 years later. Happy Sunday!
All of my life, long before I was introduced to LDS missionaries and the LDS church and all that entails, I have noticed a special feeling that I get when I find something that is good or true. I may not have felt it very frequently through my teen years, but I did feel it and recognize it.
As a young adult, I went on a weekend trip to a church-y thing in Indiana. I went with a group from the United Methodist Church in Columbia which I occasionally attended. I wasn't a solid part of that "group" but they were welcoming and I was curious about this odd group of people who were so wrapped up in God. I was conflicted between the partying life I led in college and the responsible, religious life with which I was raised. Both seemed so extreme: like, go ahead and keep partying and come try drugs too or do a complete 180 and become devoted to church as a minister or layperson who talks to every stranger on the street about coming to Jesus . . the kind of people you cross the street or duck behind a cereal display to avoid.
Neither one really felt right. I partied to fit in with my friends and because it helped me loosen up and let go of my shyness. While it was fun, it didn't feel "right" and it left me with guilt. I was just one of the sheep following the herd. On the other hand, when I went to church (having chosen the Methodist church only because I was raised in it), I felt a bit like an impostor (pretending to be virtuous long enough to go to church and feel better) and I wasn't entirely convinced that going to church was anything more than an attempt to please my parents from a distance. They were all very nice, but I was really on the fence.
I remember very little of that weekend in Indiana, except for one thing. Over the course of the weekend, in spite of my "impostor complex" and in spite of feeling really weird around people who were just overflowing with hallelujahs and amens, I felt that "feeling" confirm to me that God is real. The rest of the stuff (the hallelujahs, talking to everyone about being "saved," and the thought of abandoning all fun to be "good") still left me feeling a little weird, but I knew then that God was not a fairy tale. Now, what remained to be seen (or figured out), was whether or not God actually cared what I did or if he wouldn't mind if I slept around or tried pot or followed along with whatever else my friends were doing. Because we already know he has a soft spot for sheep, right?
I didn't have a name for that feeling at that time, but I knew what it meant, or what I thought it meant. This morning as I've been going back over my lesson for Sunday School (topic: I will tell you in your mind and in your heart by the Holy Ghost), I was reminded that I knew what this feeling was long before I knew what to call it. This feeling, that many call a burning in the bosom, is really a direct communication from God. It often comes in the form of thoughts or feelings in our hearts that enlighten us and help us to feel peace. When God communicates with us in such a delicate way, it's so important for us to pay attention to the message. It's difficult to ignore a burning bush or a heavenly visitor, but we do not need a marvelous, miraculous thing to communicate with God. President Joseph F. Smith's said:
"When I as a boy first started out in the ministry, I would frequently go out and ask the Lord to show me some marvelous thing, in order that I might receive a testimony. But the Lord withheld marvels from me, and showed me the truth, line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little, until he made me to know the truth from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and until doubt and fear had been absolutely purged from me. He did not have to send an angel from the heavens to do this, nor did he have to speak with the trump of an archangel. By the whisperings of the still, small voice of the Spirit of the living God, he gave to me the testimony I possess. And by this principle and power he will give to all the children of men a knowledge of the truth."
I often think of my conversion in terms of the August day that I went to church with the sister missionaries and listened to a talk specifically about the Book of Mormon and felt that whisper of the Holy Ghost in a way I could no longer deny. . .but really, I had been in the process of conversion for some time before that. First, I began to feel dissatisfied with my life as it was. Then I became certain that God was real, though I still wasn't sure if he objected to my partying ways. Then I met the man who introduced me to the missionaries and gradually learned that Mormons are not total freaks and weirdos. Then I met the sister missionaries who gradually, gently taught me line upon line about the truth.
As I look back now, I can see the Holy Spirit whispering to me all along the way, even when it wasn't dramatic enough to stop me in my tracks, immediately. As I go back to preparing the Sunday School lesson after writing this, I think I'll be paying special attention to learning how to recognize the Spirit each day, rather than 15 years later. Happy Sunday!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
A Great Video: Both thought provoking and entertaining
I found this as www.angela-stevens.com. I am one who has also changed my position on abortion. In college, I was very strongly pro-choice (or really, pro-let-us-have-abortions-if-we-want-em. When I thought through the issue, I really couldn’t come up with a good reason why I wouldn’t consider a baby, a baby, after conception. But I was really sympathetic with those who got pregnant at the wrong time and I thought it might be better for those babies to not be born into an awful situation where they were not wanted. I was also very worried about what I would personally do if faced with that situation. I was terrified of getting pregnant and certain I never would or could want children.
A religious conversion really opened my mind to the possibility that I was terribly, terribly wrong. I still struggled with the issue for a short time after my that, but a great lesson on the importance of choice really helped me. That was a sticking point for me: choice IS important. But I had not noticed before how that phrase “pro-choice” has been used and misused are really pro-abortion. Outlawing abortion, or even stating directly that it is wrong, does not remove anyone's choice. The choice doesn't have to be between abortion or not abortion. The chocie can also be between having unmarried sex or not. . . or having unprotected sex or not. . . or keeping the baby or finding an adoptive family.
When it comes right down to it, the so-called pro-choice people are not any more about choice than the pro-life people. Those who call themselves pro-choice don’t just want us to be able to CHOOSE whether or not to have abortions, they are actually getting into the business of insisting that young, frightened, confused women DO have abortions, with as little information provided to them as possible. These young women live with the regret (and the depression and the nightmares and the physical reminders) of their abortion for the rest of their life. There is not a medical procedure in the world that you can consent to without being well informed first. . . except abortion. Where is the choice? If it is really okay and what is being killed is not a baby but a fetus or even a “lump of cells”, what could possibly be lost by giving information about the procedure and about alternatives. . . good grief, I was given information and alternatives when I had a mole removed from my neck, and I kept my clothes on for that procedure.
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