In the Beginning...
"I really enjoyed your comments," the elderly gentleman was kindly telling me, after deliberately slipping into the seat next to me between church classes to express this. "But there's one problem." My smile froze as I waited for his response, not sure what was coming. He seemed to pause himself, maybe unsure how to say it. "...You're too young."
...there was a dream, many dreams, but too much terror to pursue them. I'm actually really hesitant to start this blog but I've had enough comments made to me through the years, and enough YouTube video lectures and books (that I haven't finished yet, mind you) and enough pondering to finally feel that enough is enough; I just need to do this blog despite my fears. So here I am.
Hi, I'm Karen. I'm the girl who was shy as I grew up and has struggled my entire life with really knowing who I am, what I want, and what the truth is amidst and surrounding...everything. I am a pursuer of truth. I love the beauty of existence and cower at the tragedy also in its wake. I feel deeply and have a rich inner world but am fearful to share it with the world. I want to be me, however, and my whole life I've had this desire/need to express my innermost thoughts in an effort to come to understanding and ultimately, the truth. But why don't I just pick up a diary and write in that privately and only? I don't know, although I may ultimately do that on the side for my own benefit. I'm not Catholic, but often I am amused at the thought that I seem to be all on board with confessing my sins to someone. I feel the need to confess often and I can't tell if this is from within, or from conditioning, or both. But either way, I've found that when I air my own thoughts, feelings, deeds, etc., as uncomfortable as it may be, somehow it helps others out there. And I get that. It makes us feel less alone when we know we aren't the only ones uncertain, struggling, etc. But it takes courage and vulnerability to share one's heart in such a way. I'm still uncertain as to how much I should share, but I will do my best to navigate these waters as I see fit and appropriate. For now, I'm diving in and that's something.
Back to that conversation. I am a Latter-day Saint, meaning I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I was sitting in Sunday school with my almost 9-month-old son recently where that conversation took place. At first I thought the man was telling me my thoughts expressed during a Sunday School lesson had no credibility because of my age; but then I realized as he went on that he was expressing sadness that I already felt the way I did. We were having a lesson on the story of the brazen serpent lifted up by Moses when there were poisonous snakes biting the people, leading to death. All they had to do was simply look at the serpent to be healed, but many did not and perished. So the question was posed: What keeps us from doing those simple things we've been asked to do?
Part of my challenge to myself lately has been to speak up more when I feel like I should, or if I have something to say overall. So I raised my hand and shared some things I felt often hold us back. 1) We simply, at the core, do not believe exercising our faith will make any difference because "the damage has already been done," etc. 2) We are so weighed down/burdened by life that that simple thing does not feel simple at all, but like someone handing you something else to carry when you're already weighed down with a pack on your back and no free hands to spare.
After class, the aforementioned man spoke to me. And as he expounded on his words, I found myself thankful to be heading towards the Mother's Room right after, so I could break down without being seen. "I think if the Savior were right here, today," the man had told me, "He would look you straight in the eyes, and say, ‘Thank you. Thank you for raising these little ones.’”
...there was a dream, many dreams, but too much terror to pursue them. I'm actually really hesitant to start this blog but I've had enough comments made to me through the years, and enough YouTube video lectures and books (that I haven't finished yet, mind you) and enough pondering to finally feel that enough is enough; I just need to do this blog despite my fears. So here I am.
Hi, I'm Karen. I'm the girl who was shy as I grew up and has struggled my entire life with really knowing who I am, what I want, and what the truth is amidst and surrounding...everything. I am a pursuer of truth. I love the beauty of existence and cower at the tragedy also in its wake. I feel deeply and have a rich inner world but am fearful to share it with the world. I want to be me, however, and my whole life I've had this desire/need to express my innermost thoughts in an effort to come to understanding and ultimately, the truth. But why don't I just pick up a diary and write in that privately and only? I don't know, although I may ultimately do that on the side for my own benefit. I'm not Catholic, but often I am amused at the thought that I seem to be all on board with confessing my sins to someone. I feel the need to confess often and I can't tell if this is from within, or from conditioning, or both. But either way, I've found that when I air my own thoughts, feelings, deeds, etc., as uncomfortable as it may be, somehow it helps others out there. And I get that. It makes us feel less alone when we know we aren't the only ones uncertain, struggling, etc. But it takes courage and vulnerability to share one's heart in such a way. I'm still uncertain as to how much I should share, but I will do my best to navigate these waters as I see fit and appropriate. For now, I'm diving in and that's something.
Back to that conversation. I am a Latter-day Saint, meaning I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I was sitting in Sunday school with my almost 9-month-old son recently where that conversation took place. At first I thought the man was telling me my thoughts expressed during a Sunday School lesson had no credibility because of my age; but then I realized as he went on that he was expressing sadness that I already felt the way I did. We were having a lesson on the story of the brazen serpent lifted up by Moses when there were poisonous snakes biting the people, leading to death. All they had to do was simply look at the serpent to be healed, but many did not and perished. So the question was posed: What keeps us from doing those simple things we've been asked to do?
Part of my challenge to myself lately has been to speak up more when I feel like I should, or if I have something to say overall. So I raised my hand and shared some things I felt often hold us back. 1) We simply, at the core, do not believe exercising our faith will make any difference because "the damage has already been done," etc. 2) We are so weighed down/burdened by life that that simple thing does not feel simple at all, but like someone handing you something else to carry when you're already weighed down with a pack on your back and no free hands to spare.
After class, the aforementioned man spoke to me. And as he expounded on his words, I found myself thankful to be heading towards the Mother's Room right after, so I could break down without being seen. "I think if the Savior were right here, today," the man had told me, "He would look you straight in the eyes, and say, ‘Thank you. Thank you for raising these little ones.’”
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