Heeding The Lord's Messengers When They Come

It was Sunday, December 19. I almost didn't go to church that day because my wife had the car doing volunteer sign-language interpreting in SLC, and it was raining pretty hard. The walk to church was a half mile, and I wasn't sure I was willing to put myself and my kids through it.

But as I looked out the door into the rain, I made the decision that yes, we were going to go. So off we went. We arrived, soaking wet, but glad to have made it on time.

Sacrament meeting was a typical Christmas program. As my last day as the Sunday School President, I made my rounds during Sunday School, then waited for my wife to arrive so I could join her.

While waiting, a gentleman that I had seen for the three years I lived in the ward but had never talked to approached me. He was a US Marine and Vietnam veteran. He said to me, "I've been meaning to talk to you for about a year now." He progressed with questions about my paralyzed arm and made some recommendations on things I might be able to do to make things feel better -- being that I suffer regular phantom pain and what not.

But then, just when I thought I was going to escape from him, he launched into something else completely. I kept waiting for my wife to arrive and save me. Then I looked out the doorway and saw our car parked there. She had already arrived and must have walked right past me, yet we somehow missed each other.

This man, just old enough to be my father, whose sons I actually taught for a couple years in Sunday School, a man I had never spoken a word to before in my life, began talking to me as if he were very concerned about me, almost like a concerned father talks to a son he knows is thinking about doing something very foolish.

He spent an entire hour telling me stories of his past -- in the Marines, working for the Sheriff's office, and many other experiences. Every story, though, had the same moral that he would end each one with.

The first story he told me was of a ward member, Brother Q (names changed of course) that had offended him. He went in to see the Bishop one day and the Bishop said to him, "Now Brother K, I want you to go out there and apologize to Brother Q."

Brother K was floored! But, of course, he would do as the Bishop asked, albeit without the proper spirit, he would still be obedient.

"And one more thing," the Bishop continued, "I want you to pray for him."

That floored Brother K even more. But he obeyed the Bishop and prayed for Brother Q, although begrudgingly of course.

And with that, Brother K ended every single one of his stories to me with, "We must learn to forgive and pray for those who have offended us."

I thought I was getting the meaning of his message and promised myself I would take it to heart and start the process of trying to forgive those who had offended me. What I didn't realize was that Brother K was not talking of my past, but of my future.

How I wish I would have heeded Brother K's message the next morning. Because I didn't I have caused myself and, more importantly, those I love the most, so much unnecessary pain and suffering.

The Lord, because he loved me, sent me a message via His messenger Brother K. And I failed to hear it when it was most important.

Now, nearly two weeks and buckets of tears later, I'm finally beginning to understand Brother K's message. If only... if only I had listened to the Lord when he was speaking to me. If only I had listened.

But something I've learned recently -- finally, and hopefully not too late -- is that what's done is done. All we can do now is decide how we are going to react to it.

I realize now that those who I have taken offense to, I have only been offended because of my selfishness. If I had instead loved those around me the way that they deserved to be loved, then my life would be so much different. I'm crushed for having offended others and can only beg their forgiveness and give them the time that they need to heal from my offenses.

I now pray for my loved ones, to give them strength, peace, and patience with me.

Yesterday I had lunch with a friend I hadn't seen in 17 years or so. During the last 17 years, he has encountered many... challenges. He has garnered a great deal of wisdom from them and I am forever grateful that he shared some of it with me.

The challenge I am currently dealing with has changed me for the better. I'm just so sorry that it had to come to this. It is so unfortunate that I am often so unwise that I can only gain wisdom through a nearly catastrophic circumstance that I can hardly bear.

I hope and pray that my new-found wisdom will help to carry me through this and make my relationships with the ones I love much stronger.

If you are reading this, please know that I love you. And know that I await a better day with you.