Friday, April 14, 2017

He Loves Me Not . . . or Not?


He loves me . . . He loves me not . . . He loves me . . . He loves me not . . . 

That’s how it has felt over the past several years.  Like my heart was on a yo-yo of feeling His love and then having to choose to believe His love was there whether I felt it or not. 

What is the true definition of love anyway?  A warm fuzzy feeling inside?  A providing for other’s needs? An intense feeling of deep affection?  A verbal expression of adoration?  An acceptance and peaceful interaction with others despite differences?  

I know everyone has their own version of personal trials and mine seems to be in the financial arena. I don’t want to complain on how difficult life has been, however, one probably ought to get a sense of where we were. So I’m going to name a few of the going ons this past while.

1.       Five drivers schedules with only one vehicle (we had three but they all died within a two week period of time – we used our potential Christmas money to fix the jeep enough to get it to work).
2.       Sending a missionary out into the field
3.       Food purchases being a once a year deal – tax refund that purchased the ever tasteful and variety filled (sense the sarcasm) basic food storage (have I mentioned that two of us can’t eat wheat – which makes life interesting) or the occasional Bishop’s Storehouse.
4.       Work seemed to stop during the winter months – well the work never stopped but the ability to produce income did.  
5.       Scarcity mentality – I don’t recommend it.  A constant feeling of not having enough.
6.       Health problems – I know breathing might be overrated but then again… 
7.       Road blocks – repeatedly and constantly.  Even when having to  donate plasma to pay the bills, we'd get deferred for lack of sufficient protein in the blood.  
8.       Hospitalization for my son, which reduced me to my hypocritic status toward my own principles (see The Pains of Progress)
9.       Creditors – gotta love them.  Or maybe they love us due to their frequent calls, texts, and (dis)connections.
10.   A repeating pattern of insufficiency.  Causing a belief that we were stuck in this caste system, unable to rise above our circumstances. 

A number of years ago, my oldest and first daughter got married.  It was a crazy busy time with traumas going on with the extended family, a daughter serving in the mission field, transitions of both occupations and housing, and the holidays soon approaching.  I don’t recall having a childhood dream for my children’s weddings but I just kinda supposed I would help make it a beautiful event and fulfill the “brides” responsibilities of paying for the reception.  Well, I have to admit, it was a beautiful event.  The decorations were breathtaking, the mood and spirit of the reception was relaxed and inviting, and every thing seemed to work like clockwork.  My cost in all this - $2.00.  Yep and it was a sacrifice on my part.  I remember (dollar-store) thumb tacks and pens.  Everything else was donated or volunteered.  The cake, the refreshments, the dress, the backdrop, even the little mini-lights that gave such a luminescent effect in the centerpieces.  Everything.  And I felt like a total failure.  It’s not that I wasn’t grateful that so many people were gracious and that the result was fantastic – it was because I felt I hadn’t done my part. I didn’t get to do what I wanted to do. 


Fast forward to this last Christmas.  I had made a list and got a good idea of Christmas gifts that would be meaningful and needful for our Christmas celebration.  Wanting to keep our traditions, I strove with every opportunity to accumulate the desired gifts.  And with each time I had money in my hands, it went out just as fast to some other pressing urgency, mostly so that my husband could keep working.  Not only was I not getting the gifts I wanted, our mortgage and food and power were being paid for by the Bishop.  So according to all the famous Christmas stories where it was a meager means but found some meaningful treasure in spite of the scarcity, or a secret santa provided a small token – Nope.  My bedroom became the loading docks.  I think it was 13 garbage bags – FULL.  Not just secret santa, but quality used stuff as well.  I didn’t have enough wrapping paper and on Christmas morning, we had to take a break from sorting through all the shtuff because the abundance was too exhausting.  This wasn’t the first Christmas that we’ve had amazing contributions but it was one of the most difficult.  Not because we didn’t have enough, but because we had soooooo much and it wasn’t from my efforts – it was just given to me. And I didn’t get to do what I wanted to do.

Then this last week, it happened again.  Got a call out of the blue from someone who recently heard of our financial plight.  She just offered her van – no strings attached.  She had more vehicles than she needed, we had less than needed, so she just gave it to us.  A true application of the Law of Consecration.  And it’s not just a van with adequate seats, but it has all the bells and whistles.  DVD player, 6 CD changer, Navigation system with the back-up video thingy, leather heated seats, rear thermometer and entertainment controls, consistent maintenance so that it’s in good shape.  You name it, it is uptown, especially when compared to what we’ve been driving. (a gimping along, four-passenger jeep).  Still gaping about this one.  I tried to justify that we didn’t need it (we desperately needed it, but not as much as several months before) and I tried to come up with funds to actually purchase it. Nope.  Just swallow any self-respect and accept it humbly and gratefully.  Again, I didn’t get to do what I wanted to do.

So He Love Me (provides the atonement, this plan of happiness, personal testimony of my Savior) . . . He Love Me Not (roadblocks, insufficiency, inabilities, personal trials) . . . He Love Me (increased ability to BE like him, feeling the warm fuzzies, feeling his intense feelings of deep affection) . . . He Loves Me Not (His promises don’t seem to be playing out, feeling alone, feeling trapped) . . . He Loves Me (seeing and feeling tender mercies, patience to see that his promises are playing out – according to his schedule, not mine, my needs are being provided for but at the expense of my pride)

So although I haven't been able to do what I wanted to do, I am seeing that something MORE is happening to me than the simple pride of being able to do it myself.  It remind me of one of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes:
"Give me ALL.  I don't want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work:  I want You.  I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it.  No half-measures are any good.  I don't want to cut off a branch here and a branch there, I want to have the tree down... Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked - the whole outfit.  I will give you a new self instead.  In fact, I will give you Myself: my own shall become yours"
"Imagine yourself as a living house.  God comes in to rebuild that house.  At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing.  He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.  But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense.  What on earth is He up to?  The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards.  You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage; but he is building a palace.  He intends to come and live in it Himself."

Although I may not understand (or like) my trials, I can see it as yet more evidence that He Loves Me.