I feel like all of us have the occasion to feel like a pumpkin at times. Most specifically when a hand reaches in and rips out all of your guts. I don't want to compare that gruesome image with how I've felt this week, but here I am, about to shamelessly liken myself to a jack-o-lantern even though Halloween is dead and gone. The only other thing that I could come up to illustrate my point was laxatives, so you can thank your lucky stars that we're sticking with the pumpkin metaphor.
Did you know that pumpkins don't shine? Probably. I mean, obviously. You're intelligent enough to know that you have to cut it into it, scoop out all of the innards (ugh, that word) and then set the candle inside. Whether you set an electric candle inside or one that you have to light yourself, the principle is the same: the pumpkin glows.
I don't think any of us ever really shine on our own, either. And I'm not just talking about the light of Christ shine that everyone has--I'm talking real, burning light that gives off more than the glow of embers.
And I don't think any of us would argue that you can't skip the step of scooping out the guts of the pumpkin to make room for the candle. Unless you want a pumpkin that doesn't shine and spoils faster.
Which you don't. And I don't want to be the kind of person who's filled with imperfections and grief, either, because you can't shine with all of that stuff. Shining doesn't come without the ripping--or maybe a nicer word would be cleansing. And vice versa! You can't be cleansed without shining afterwards.
But like I said, I'm not just talking about jack-o-lanterns. I'm telling you about my week. I told you last week (по моему) that I'm trying to give up my desires for His. If you've been thinking of doing the same thing, let me tell you what you can expect:
- An elevated perspective. You'll see more clearly the events that are already behind you and the ones right in front of you. It might make you cringe, but the next point makes it okay.
- The realization that Heavenly Father's vision for you has never changed. He's always seen you as the perfected person that you'll be--even when you missed opportunities or didn't try your hardest. He's not discouraged by who you are, so you probably shouldn't be either.
- He's going to go for the jugular. I don't know how to make that sound soft because it isn't. From the moment that you hand yourself over to Him, He doesn't waste time whacking at branches but goes for the root. He's going to put the weakest parts of your character to the test because they're the ones that need the most strengthening. The Lord loveth those whom He chasteneth.
- He won't necessarily take away your good desires, but He will refine and improve them. He'll make them more specific and realizable.
- You'll have more peace, especially in moments when it doesn't make sense to feel peaceful.
- You'll stop skipping over the phrase "easy to be entreated" in Alma 7:23. Or maybe that's just me.
- Clarity of thought in general. You'll see things that you have previously been blind to--the good and the bad.
- You'll know what your standing is with God.
- He'll teach you what you weren't willing to learn before.
- You'll have confidence in what's to come.
- You'll be grateful.
I'm guessing that the outcome of your efforts will be different from mine in a lot of ways, but I suspect that no matter what, there will be a ripping, a cleansing, a sanctifying of the inner vessel.
C.S. Lewis put it this way: “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.”
And this is just week two of handing Him the hammer and telling him to go at it! I can only imagine what a life lived like this would be.
Probably filled with light. (D&C 50:24, anybody?)
Besides trying to change from the inside out, we've been up to other things this week.
Last Monday, we cut our preparation day a little short and made soup, bread, and brownies for a member named Tatjana. She hasn't wanted to meet with us because she's always busy taking care of her sister's two grandsons (they all live together). We were nervous to drop it off because a few weeks before, I had explained to her on the phone that we just wanted to stop by for literally a minute and give her dinner and a quick spiritual thought that goes along with the brownies that she can do by herself, but I hadn't finished my sentence before she said, "We have our own food and we're busy!" And a few other things. But either way, we figured that when people say they don't want us to do nice things for them, they don't actually mean it, haha. So it was a surprise, as you can imagine, when she opened up the door and let us come in. She was really grateful and I think it must have made a difference because on Sunday, she let me sit next to her in church and when we were leaving, she came up and gave me a hug.
It's the little things.
I also went on an exchange with Sister Call, who's in her first transfer. She's Sister Ixtlahuac's trainee and she's the cutest. From somewhere in Utah. We had a cool thing happen to us, though.
It was Halloween and we were on a bus headed home for the night when I sat down next to a guy named Boris. He looked vaguely familiar. I had barely sat down when he turned to me and said, "So I'm guessing that you're not allowed to celebrate Halloween." I suddenly remembered him and had a stupid look on my face when he said, "Yeah, we've talked before." Two months ago, I had been sitting on a bus when a really drunk guy and his friend sat next to me. They were being, well, drunk, so I decided to stand up to get away from them. I ended up standing next to Boris. He talked to me first that time, too. He asked why I don't sit with my companion when everybody knows that we're on the bus together. I only had a stop or two to talk to him but he was a nice guy.
Fast-forward to Halloween and I realized that he's one of the most intellectually curious people I've met. From the beginning, I could tell that he didn't want to discuss religion, so I asked him about the history of Latvia. We live on the same bus stop and so we continued talking for another half hour. I was actually really interested in what he had to say--he loves history and so do I, so it was fascinating (and sad) to hear all about what the people here have gone through and why Russians are the lower class. He's another special person on my mission who made me feel like I came here specifically for him, even though he wasn't necessarily interested in the gospel. After listening to him for a while, I asked him what he thinks about God and religion in general. It was the most natural way I think that I've ever brought up the gospel because I really was interested in what his opinion was, not just interested in making a smooth transition to my message. That led to the most natural explanation of the Restoration that I've ever given, and I walked away from the conversation feeling like it was exactly what Heavenly Father would have wanted to happen.
Moments of peace like that rarely come to me after talking to someone, so it meant a lot. There's always something to beat yourself up over but I'm learning the value of listening to what Heavenly Father has to say about my efforts more than what I have to say.
And no, people don't really celebrate Halloween here. I think I saw five or six people dressed up but other than that, I was the only one carrying around a pillowcase.
I love you. Thanks for the prayers and for not forgetting that I exist over here. It means a lot.
С любовью,
Сестра Гуч
P.S. I was fairly serious about you sending me good recipes for Thanksgiving food. Our district is going to celebrate it early so S. Roy, S. Dalley and I can participate in the festivities. It's going to be TURKEY FOR DAYS this year.
P.P.S. Fall is gorgeous here. Obviously.
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