So, I had an experience a few years back that I never intended to share. It was too personal and close to my heart. I still tear up just thinking about it. But as usual, the Lord had quite a different idea, and planned for it to influence more than just myself.
To my surprise, it came up in a comment during Relief Society in just the last couple weeks. The teacher the next week asked me to share my version with everyone, and after hearing it, my bishop's wife told me it was a story that needed to be written down, so here goes...
As I've said before, I am extremely people shy, always have been. The severity comes and goes as I'm forced out of my comfort zone, and then get comfortable back in it again, and have to experience a cycle of repeated people trauma.
This particular Sunday in June 2010 was an extremely bad day.
The Relief Society lesson had been on President Uchtdorf's April 2010 General Conference talk, "You Are My Hands." A powerful lesson on serving others as the Lord would serve them if He were here.
But instead of being edified by the lesson, my thoughts favored self-flagellation, and focusing on my weaknesses and inadequacies in regards to others. We also had a linger longer that day, in which I talked to no one new, and failed at inventing conversation for those I wanted to talk to. I left the building annoyed at myself, frustrated, and fading into hopelessness fast.
My thoughts as I drove along settled on the parable of the Good Samaritan. How I wished I could be of service, but was totally convinced that I was too shy and worthless to ever stop and help someone by the wayside. Nope, there's no way I could ever do it. So, how could I call myself a Christian and profess to live the gospel when I was too terrified of His children to be of any use to the Lord? No matter how much I wanted to help, fear would always win. Why the heck was was I even bothering to try any more?
Then I noticed an old man at the end of the road, hunched over a white picket fence. Huh. That's odd, I thought. As I got closer, I saw he was clinging to a rather shaky fence, and then I saw a walker lying horizontal on the pavement in front of him. Well, it doesn't take a genius to put those two and two together. So, I stopped the car, hit my hazard lights, and ran around and picked up the walker for him. Helped him get his hands on it, and asked if he needed any help. He tried to speak, but couldn't. He put his hand on mine, and looked into my eyes, and I could see his gratitude.
Suddenly someone opened the front door of the house, and I ran (because people are scary!). I know, I know, any normal person would have said, oh hey, his walker fell over and I just stopped to help. But I'm not normal. And I got out of there ASAP.
It wasn't until I started to drive away that it hit me.
The enormity of what I had just done, in contrast to what I had been thinking when I stopped. And the Spirit flooded over me as I realized that I had been blessed by the grace and tender mercy of the Lord. No matter how horrible I felt about myself and how much I had given up on me - He hadn't given up on me, nor would He ever! And He knew better than I the desires and intents of my heart, and what I would do when given the opportunity.
I cried all the way home. I don't know that I have ever had such an instantaneous and powerful witness of the fact that God knows me personally, loves me, and is prepared to give me exactly what I need at precisely the right time.
Whatever minor service I gave to that sweet little old man was nothing compared to what I received. And I thought the whole experience was for me, and me alone, to cherish.
Fast forward to now, nearly three years later. Two weeks ago in Relief Society, a girl made a comment and I learned that there had been a witness my act. During those few seconds that I helped that man years before, she had driven by and seen me. She too had thought the Relief Society lesson that day was powerful, but though she had been attending church regularly, she hadn't really been living the gospel in her life, and didn't intend to change.
Witnessing my act had a major impact on her life at a pivotal point. Seeing someone actually living the gospel, and doing the things discussed and professed at church. And since that day, she has retained an extremely high opinion of me (which I find quite humbling). Recently I had the great opportunity to teach her the temple prep lessons, as she prepares to receive her endowment and to serve a mission.
Wow. The Lord really does know what He's doing. His ways are not our ways.
I've often longed to see the big picture in the puzzle of my life, to understand how all the different pieces fit together. But the puzzle isn't really just mine, is it? The pieces of all of our lives interconnect and combine into one great whole, an all encompassing picture with pieces contributed from all the "Sons of Adam" and "Daughters of Eve" as C.S. Lewis described the children in his Narnia book series.
Someday it will be fascinating to see the intertwining web of all our acts and all our lives together. To see the true big picture and know of influences we've had on others, most of which we were probably completely unaware of. And to have the opportunity to thank others for the examples that they've been to us.
President Spencer W. Kimball said, "God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through
another person that he meets our needs."
And those who fulfill our personal needs become beautiful to us, our earthly angels. I know that I will forever be grateful to one little old man, who happened to knock over his walker at the very moment that I needed to provide help by the wayside, to lift my soul from despair.
Pres. Kimball again, "God does nothing by chance, but always by design as a loving father. You know his purpose. We have purpose also in our lives."
And I'm currently delighted that little Miss Tiny appears to share my shoe fetish - she loves to stomp around in everyone else's shoes. So when my sister and I saw an adorable portrait of a little girl trying on heels, we thought we'd put some of my many shoes to use for Tiny's 18 month photo shoot. Haha, well, we tried. The phrase "herding cats" comes to mind when trying to photograph a toddler.
