Forgotten

I am a very forgetful person, just ask my husband.  I am constantly misplacing my car keys and cell phone. Often, I find myself like the woman spoken of in the parable by the Savior of the lost coin ‘sweep[ing] the house, and seek[ing] diligently’ (Luke 15: 8) until I recover whatever has gone missing.

 I wonder if deep down inside sometimes we feel like we are a lost coin in the purse of Providence.  Do you ever feel forgotten?  Do you ever feel small, and insignificant, and that maybe God is a bit too busy for you and is saying figuratively the same thing I find myself constantly telling my own child, “Just a minute. . .” 

While that is our nature, I promise you that is not His.  He does not forget and He does not postpone; especially, I would add His daughters.  As Sister Reeves so beautifully stated in the General Relief Society broadcast:

“I testify that He has not forgotten you! Whatever sin or weakness or pain or struggle or trial you are going through, He knows and understands those very moments. He loves you! And He will carry you through those moments. . .He has paid the price that He might know how to succor you. Cast your burdens upon Him. Tell your Heavenly Father how you feel. Tell Him about your pain and afflictions and then give them to Him.”

I find myself at times subconsciously telling God, “I’ve got this. I can handle this”, and sometimes as all Dads do, He allows me to go on in this ‘I’m a big girl’ attitude before showing me through struggles that are beyond me just how much I can’t handle it, and to what degree I haven’t got it.  He helps me see how much I need him, and that His concern for my welfare isn’t something I qualify for.  He cares because I am His kid, and I promise you if you cannot feel so know that He cares about you too.  Remember, He does not run out of time or energy; no, that’s just us.  And this is a blessing, because it forces us to prioritize ourselves and choose each day whom we will serve and how.    

This is embarrassing, because it reveals how unrighteous I am, but I found myself recently trying to tell God what I need.  I didn’t know that I was doing this, but if the inner monologue had words it would go something like this, “Heavenly Father, it’s me, Hillary. I just want you to know that I think the best use of my time right now would be as a Mother, and I could really use another child right now.  You have commanded us to have kids, and Colton needs a sibling to play with so I see you giving me another kid as a win-win-win for all of us.  I fulfill my potential and your mandate, Colton gets a sibling, and a beautiful spirit gets a body and a family that will cherish and care about him or her.  That’s a good thing, right?  Also, with regards to Colton, I think he needs to be closer to Grandmas and Grandpas so if you could arrange things for us to move closer to family, preferably like now, that would also be wonderful. Oh, and I almost forgot, can you please let Mitt Romney win.  Thanks.”

I won’t take your valuable time to relate all that is wrong with this conversation when it is so readily apparent, but it was so not apparent to me that this is truly how I felt.  The prayers I actually uttered were toned down and contained all the elements of a ‘thy will, not mine’ style.  The problem was that they weren’t real—they were a front.  It has taken me a while to realize that my heart and my head were not in sync here, and that my attempts to win God to my side were futile, because I wasn’t fooling anybody except maybe myself.  He sees me much more clearly than I can.  How patient He is!

I found myself last Sunday morning exhausted and defeated at the pavilion of my problems. As Elder Eyering spoke on just such, the floodgates opened and tears traced down my face as I came to a full awareness of what I had been doing.  I was trying to take control when what I needed to do was trust that God is in control.  I needed to humble myself and submit truly to His will.  My heart was so full, and I could not wait to retire to my room to pour out my feelings in prayer so I started writing the prayer right then and there.  As the last words left my pen, I felt an incredible release from the pain and frustration I had been feeling.  I felt free and at peace. I didn’t need to know what was going to happen.  I felt like I could run a little longer, and that someday things would be different. Substantiated for me were Elder Wirthlin’s words:

“The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.” (Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (1917–2008), “Come What May, and Love It,” Ensign, Nov. 2008, 28.)

The Lord has not forgotten us, our families, or this country.  Unlike us, He does not hide His face.