Monday, May 9, 2011

an apology for a lost year.

One time, when I was maybe 13, my friend's dad got called as Bishop. The first Sunday, when he was sustained--he talked about how he spent a lot of time crying when he found out. I always wondered about that comment. I'd never seen him cry. He was the sort of dad who let us play Chinese fire drill in his car at every stop light.

Last year in February, my bishop gave me a calling that made me cry. At first I laughed. But, when I got home, I just cried. It wasn't a strange calling, I'd done it before--but, that made it worse because I knew exactly what it required. I was wondering why God would ask me to do it again. I really didn't think I could do it.

So, I asked for a blessing from one of my friends. He had no idea what was going on. Later, he admitted he thought I was manic depressive. Anyways, he gave me a blessing, and I received a very specific instruction to meditate every day.

I thought that was a great idea. I had all sorts of plans to follow that instruction. But, the assignment began and I had more help than I ever dreamed, and there were more miracles than I ever dreamed, and more loveliness, and more sacredness. I forgot about the meditation.

I didn't forget. I just didn't do it. Sometimes I'd think about it when I woke up in the morning--in between hitting the snooze button on my phone.

I made sure I didn't miss my morning prayers--but I didn't meditate.

So, this year--my goal is live a more careful life. I can't make up for all the missed opportunities for calmness and inspiration--but, I can go forward and turn a little bit more towards God every day.

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