Did you get what you wanted?
It has been many years now that the only I thing I wanted, truly, perpetually wanted, for Christmas was a feeling of security. Though I am not sure security is exactly the right word for it, I absolutely crave this feeling and always have. At times it has been a wish for temporal security; at times a wish for emotional peace; and at still other times, a simple wish for sanity (and sleep). But mostly and always it has been a wish for the comfort of knowing this is all going to turn out in the end.
It's ironic that I consider myself one of the relative few in the entire history of the world who have had this knowledge, and yet the feeling has been so slippery, so very hard to grasp and hold onto. There have been years I have been really clinically depressed; there have been years I have been supremely discouraged; and there have been still other years that I have felt pretty dang good. And even when I feel really secure--in myself and who I am and what I am doing here with my time and in my God--I know I will wake up one day and the world will look bleak again. My hope will wane, my faith will dwindle. And knowing that will happen is not security at all.
I think this is the gift Jesus Christ gives to us: peace in knowning that yes, someday, this will all work out.
Last night Dave and I took a moment to query the kids on why they thought it was so important for Jesus to be born. Of course they knew the answer: to make the Atonement--to complete the work that made it possible for us to return to Heavenly Father. And they even knew why someone might want to achieve that end: it is better than the alternative, it will make us happy.
Will it? Why do I think that? I've thought it since I was a little kid. I spend my life and the time that makes it up trying to be a good person in hope--no in faith because hope alone is not enough--that there is some reward when the struggles are over. And I know for me, the only reward can be security--security in knowing nothing will ever harm or embarrass me, nothing will ever hurt me or cause me sorrow, nothing will ever take from me the things that I hold dear. Honestly, I don't really know if that's what heaven is like, but for me, it couldn't possibly be any other way.
Well, I blinked and Christmas is over. Did I get what I wanted? Yeah, I think I did. Did you?
It's ironic that I consider myself one of the relative few in the entire history of the world who have had this knowledge, and yet the feeling has been so slippery, so very hard to grasp and hold onto. There have been years I have been really clinically depressed; there have been years I have been supremely discouraged; and there have been still other years that I have felt pretty dang good. And even when I feel really secure--in myself and who I am and what I am doing here with my time and in my God--I know I will wake up one day and the world will look bleak again. My hope will wane, my faith will dwindle. And knowing that will happen is not security at all.
I think this is the gift Jesus Christ gives to us: peace in knowning that yes, someday, this will all work out.
Last night Dave and I took a moment to query the kids on why they thought it was so important for Jesus to be born. Of course they knew the answer: to make the Atonement--to complete the work that made it possible for us to return to Heavenly Father. And they even knew why someone might want to achieve that end: it is better than the alternative, it will make us happy.
Will it? Why do I think that? I've thought it since I was a little kid. I spend my life and the time that makes it up trying to be a good person in hope--no in faith because hope alone is not enough--that there is some reward when the struggles are over. And I know for me, the only reward can be security--security in knowing nothing will ever harm or embarrass me, nothing will ever hurt me or cause me sorrow, nothing will ever take from me the things that I hold dear. Honestly, I don't really know if that's what heaven is like, but for me, it couldn't possibly be any other way.
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