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Winds-day and Lesson 11: Faith in Jesus Christ

Yesterday, I watched a wind storm.

Paul was napping. I sat at my desk, at my computer.

When I heard a strong wind whip through the trees, I looked out. Our house is on a hill so I see trees for miles.

The sky was cloudy and gray. And there was quite a wind. Autumn leaves fell out of the sky–yellow and orange–but so did bunches of green leaves. A branch whipped across the roof. The neighbors’ garbage cans across the highway toppled over, the “for sale” sign was uprooted, and trees seemed to bend. Our lights flickered. One tree bent close to our home, and I heard something banging against our roof.

I worried: I rushed to Paul’s room.

Paul slept soundly. His eyes remained closed, and he sighed in his sleep. He brought his hand nearer his mouth and bumped his pacifier, which rested on the mattress now. He sighed again and turned his head to look at the wall. I heard the wind, but it was distant. All was calm.

I watched him sleep for a few minutes. Then I left his room, closed the door, and sat at my desk again. I don’t know why I panicked and raced to him during the wind. We were safe inside our home. The wind wasn’t going to knock down our walls: they are strong. We were safe.

But as I watched him sleep, I felt this sudden out-of-control feeling: He’s going to grow up. He’s going to go outside, into the world, away from me. Will he be strong enough against the winds, or will they topple him?

And now, my [son], remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall.

— Helaman 5:12

After a little while, the winds calmed, with only an occasional burst. The clouds didn’t retreat, but the sky lightened a bit.

And then there was a burst of wind, and a full-grown tree toppled over, right through our neighbor’s yard and our neighbor’s fence and our fence and into our backyard.

As I’ve thought about the tree (and watch it sitting rudely on our lawn), I realized it was only after the worst of the storm was over that the tree succumbed. It had been weakened. In a very real way, the tree it wasn’t strong enough against the winds.

I had thought that the lesson for Sunday school this week was about faith; most of the manual discusses what faith is and examples of faith from the scriptures. But then I looked at the title: Faith in Jesus Christ. It’s not just faith; the first principle of the gospel is “faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.” Believing, a general faith, is not enough to sustain us through the “mighty winds” that the adversary will send our way.

We can have faith that the sun will rise tomorrow; we can have faith that a seed will grow. But we must have faith that Jesus Christ truly did atone for our sins. That is how we return to our Heavenly Father. It is only in and through Christ that we can return to Him.

Joseph Smith called faith “a moving cause of action” and “a principle of power.” It is not a passive concept. The power of faith is incredible: the walls of Jericho came down, Enoch moved mountains, Jared beheld the finger of the Lord. I think of what those people had to do to exercise such faith. Then I think of the power I can receive by exercising faith in Jesus Christ: the ability to return to my Heavenly Father, despite my shortcomings. Wow! That’s more than moving a mountain in my mind.

I must actively build my foundation in Christ, and I must teach my son to build such a foundation. I can only do that if I rely on my own foundation: I am imperfect, but through Christ, I can be perfect.

I must teach my son that he belongs to God, for he is a child of God first. God has entrusted his spirit to me. What a responsibility!

I suspect I’ll always want to check on him when the winds come, even when the day comes that I must let him go outside, into the world. How will his foundation fare against the “mighty winds?”

Lesson 11 of 45

Home Again

Healing

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The surgeon cut me open four times. Three cuts were half an inch. The last was one inch. He removed one of my organs (my gallbladder) through one of them.

For one week, I left the waterproof bandages on. I had bled, and the bandages were weary. My muscles were sore, like someone had punched me in the gut. I rested. But then I stood up. I swept the floor. I picked up my baby, and I went to the grocery store. I lived.

After one week, a nurse removed the bandages and the stitches.

Now, four bright red lines mark the spots. The skin has come together. There is no more blood oozing, there is no more pain. My body has healed itself.

As I look at my week-old wounds, I think one word: Miracle. My body is a miracle.

Your body, whatever its natural gifts, is a magnificent creation of God. It is a tabernacle of flesh–a temple for your spirit. A study of your body attests to its divine design.

Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things, both in heaven and in earth; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend.

Mosiah 4:9

Watching my body heal has strengthened my testimony of God’s majesty.

Lesson 3: The Fall of Adam and Eve

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Sometimes I think it would be nice to live in a world with no sickness, no sorrow, and no pain. What would such a world be like?

I’ll begin with the trivial: I wouldn’t be uncomfortably hot during the summer. Now, on hot days, I hope for a short summer and early autumn. Of course, I wouldn’t have any uncomfortably cold wintery days either. But, without the extreme weather, I wouldn’t appreciate spring and autumn weather. By eliminating unpleasant weather, pleasant weather gets very boring.

Then I think about a world void of sicknesses and pain. I’ve always been healthy and lacked major health problems. That has changed in the past four months. (Having a baby helps your body fall apart, I guess.) I would love to eliminate pain and sickness from my life! Ironically, though, it is only now that I’ve regularly experienced ill health that I recognize what a blessing it was to have had good health. Every day that I am not ill is a very good day (there still are plenty of those), and some days I feel great! By being ill, I appreciate so much more being well. (However, I really do look forward to not being ill on a regular basis.)

It might sound nice initially, but a world without sickness, sorrow, pain, and sin would lack all enjoyment as well.

In the beginning, Adam and Eve lived in such a world.

When they were first placed there, they were given two commandments:

Multiply and replenish the earth (Genesis 1:28)
Don’t partake of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2:16-17)

And here lies the most complex irony: because the garden was a place of innocence, Adam and Eve couldn’t fulfill the first commandment without breaking the second.

When Adam and Eve did choose to partake of the fruit, they committed a transgression, not a sin. Because there was nothing inherently wrong with partaking of the fruit, it was not a sin to partake of it, even though it was a commandment not to.

I like this comparison: A parent tells a child to never cross the street. Does the parent have a reason for the rule? Yes. But is it inherently wrong to cross the street? No. At some point in his life, the child needs to cross the street.

Eve had a dilemma. She had to choose to sacrifice her painless world of innocence in order to gain experience and to bear children. She did not know what the experience would be because she’d never before experienced it. No human had experienced it. It’s hard to choose to experience the unknown. And yet, she wanted to gain experience and she wanted to raise children.

I feel close to her dilemma. A little more than three months ago, I went through incredible pains to bring a child into the world. It was horrible. I thought I was going to die. I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted to give up. Why can’t we have children without the pain?

Well, that’s not the plan, and I’m not talking about the lack of drugs. (I imagine childbirth is still quite painful with drugs.) There is much pain in raising a child, beyond childbirth. The plan of our Heavenly Father is to learn from experience. Experience sometimes entails fear and pain, but it also includes incredible happiness. There is supposed to be opposition as we experience the good.

Eve could only bear children by giving up innocence. I can’t speak for Eve, but because I went through that painful experience of childbirth:

I have the most beautiful, perfect little boy to raise.
I learned a lot about my abilities to do what I have to do.
I gained an incredible spiritual closeness to my Heavenly Father.
I am learning every day from my child.

I think childbirth is an incredible miracle. But it required going through a very challenging experience. It required that I not live in a perfect world, void of pain and sorrow.

Adam [and Eve] fell that man [and woman] might be, and men [and women] are that they might have joy. 2 Nephi 2:25

I’m grateful for the Fall of Adam and Eve. It meant I could come to earth. It meant I can bear children. It meant that I can have my joy multiplied as I Experience. And truly, my family is my greatest joy.

Lesson 3 of 45

Sup-Sup-Suppertime

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I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate.—Julia Child

Non-cooks think it’s silly to invest two hours’ work in two minutes’ enjoyment; but if cooking is evanescent, so is the ballet. —Julia Child

Despite my mother’s best intentions, I never really liked or learned to cook while I was in her household.

In college, I avoided cooking and lived on Rice-a-Roni, sugar cookies, and Life cereal for four years. (My roommates can attest to that.) It helped that I often didn’t notice when I was hungry and forgot to eat. When I first got married, I would kind of cook, but not really — just so my stomach was full, I didn’t care what went in it. My husband loves to cook and he’d do the cooking on the weekends. But when he was out of town, I was lucky if I didn’t just get McDonalds. We moved to Australia and suddenly I was not working, I had time and no more excuses. I felt my husband deserved a home-cooked meal each night. I found recipes and began cooking; “at least three times a week” was my goal. It was tedious, but I could do it.

At that point, I felt that if I tried something challenging, I would mess up and it would be a disaster — so why try the hard things? Besides, food will be gone in a few moments. Why put in effort to create something spectacular? As a result, I made “boring” dishes that I didn’t feel too proud of. I felt I needed to apologize before serving it. (I never heard a word of complaint; rather, my husband always said my food was wonderful.)

Then Paul was born. I felt somewhat out of control for a few weeks and I didn’t cook at all. Then, one day (Paul was probably two weeks old), I sat down and found a recipe, I got the ingredients, and I made some yummy food. It was so much fun. Since then, I’ve found that I love cooking! Yes, sometimes I really don’t feel like cooking and we do something easy or my husband cooks. But on most days, I’ve found I love the hour I have every evening to create a feast for my husband. I’m getting pretty good at timing it so it’s ready just as he’s walking in the door. And I love it.

I’ve been cooking any recipe that looks tasty. What’s the result of cooking any recipe? Plenty of “oops” meals, and plenty of learning. Some recipes take a lot of effort. Some work well and others don’t. And the food is gone in minutes or days if we’re lucky (leftovers are a good thing). I know more about technique and flavor pairing than I ever did before. I can critique my finished product and determine what is missing or overpowering in it. I can tweak a recipe as I cook to make it better.

I actually look forward to trying five or six new recipes next week.

I don’t know what changed, but there’s something satisfying I didn’t feel before. It feels great to welcome my husband home from work with a complete feast on the table. Cooking is fun. Sup-sup-suppertime really is the very best time of the day!

Come, Listen to a Prophet’s Voice

Happy Thanksgiving

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I am thankful for:

My precious little boy
My wonderful husband
Eternal covenants that bind families together
The Gospel of Jesus Christ and everything else that entails

I celebrated the day by:

Changing an explosive diaper
Doing laundry (thanks to the explosive diaper)
Cleaning spit up off the rented couch
Sweeping the floors
Trying to figure out Christmas presents for you people
Eating leftovers

That’s all. (Well, we didn’t get a holiday. What do you expect?)

Enjoy your turkey!

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Thoughts on womanhood and motherhood