On Another Note....

I once compared the gospel of Jesus Christ during the time I was a missionary to a mother having a newborn child; the gospel affected how I viewed everything. It affected what I ate, when I slept, what I spent my time doing, how I was viewed by others, and caused many painfully sleepless nights with feelings of inadequacy during significant periods of personal growth. I remember with fondness, but acknowledge how difficult that time was for me and how it changed me, and not always in ways I would consider to be positive.

Since then, my relationship with the gospel has changed. My view of it has grown. I still love it, the same way I love my children as they get older, but the relationship is different somehow. It isn't as innocent, doesn't control me in the same way it once did. I view it as a living, breathing part of my life that still requires time, devotion, and a lot of patience. My son will always be my child, no matter what, and my faith will always be a part of my life, no matter how my relationship may evolve.

In the end, I am in a period of my life when I choose to have faith that there is more than the paltry number of years until our bodies fail us. All of the arguments, all of reasoning, and all of the doubts must eventually be addressed in this way for me: I either choose to embrace the vacuum of disbelief, or I welcome the opportunity to recognize the spiritual light in my life.

I read a discourse yesterday comparing personal revelation to light: sometimes it's bright, and sudden, and full; light that illuminates with a burst of electricity flowing from the center of a room. Usually, however, revelation is more like the dawn; it approaches slowly, with hints that it's coming, gradually opening up the details of the world. Some days the sun is beautiful, and warm, and obvious; other days, clouds interfere, and it is difficult to even discern when the sun has risen above the horizon.

It's been a lot of cloudy days. I can still see God in the life around me, but I need the sunny warmth of His obvious presence again, to boost me. I wonder how I can achieve that, or if it's even within my control.

My question for today is how can Jesus Christ have all-encompassing empathy for us, if he never sinned to the point of losing hope of redemption? I think of the alcoholic, who attempts for the hundredth time to free himself from his vice, and fails. I think of the person who leaves her last circle of friendship in ruins, hopelessly feeling the weight of self-inflicted loneliness.

Either way, maybe today I can show better understanding for somebody. Let's go with that.