On Sunday we attended another ward (congregation) in order to hear the farewell talk by the daughter of friends. It was lovely and spiritual and touching all at once. I felt the spirit there---especially during the closing hymn. Here's what we sang.
Be Still, My Soul
Be still, my soul. The Lord is on thy side.
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev'ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend.
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake.
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still my soul: The waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.
Be still, my soul: The hour is hast'ning on
When we shall be forever with the the Lord.
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone.
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: When change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
And I cannot claim to have often "..with patience bear thy cross of grief or pain..." My. My cross of grief or pain.
I have gotten better at it, though. I've learned that I must hand the painful, unsolvable, heartwrenching problems to the Lord. While I have been blessed with strong shoulders to bear my burdens, my shoulders are not as strong as His. Learning to trust the Lord, I have also had to learn to trust in His timing. This is not an easy thing for me. I tend to see a problem and wish to solve it. Then. There. Right away.
Patience and waiting on the Lord are things I've had ample time to work on. Patience---and biting my tongue.
Case in point. I had a young mother give me a speech a while back about how she's going to give her little one year old child a sip of wine in the not too distant future. That she will mix the wine with some water, but that soon this child will know the taste of wine and that's a good thing (her words--not mine) because by introducing alcohol to her child, this child will be much less likely to become wild and an alcoholic later in life. When you don't allow your children to imbibe, they leave home and become boozers.(again---her words, not mine)
This little soliloquy by the young mother was entirely for my benefit. I sat there, watching and smiling. Nodding on occasion. Hmmming on others. I did not engage her nor did I dispute her except to say, "Each family has their own set of values and ideas on how to raise their children." She agreed, then went on to reiterate her plan and her reasoning behind it.
I can tell you that my heart was not very still at that point. I was being told, in no uncertain terms that my mothering, my values and my family's faith was wrong and misguided. I was being attacked, albeit in a calm and quite way. I tried to let her know that each person has their own way of raising their children. And that the way my husband and I raised our children was according to our faith, our love for our Father in Heaven and our desire to instill in our children a respect for their bodies and to learn to follow the commandments.
My soul is still, in that I know we did what was correct. My soul is not still, in that wrong choices have been made and consequences are inevitable. However, I am learning to still my soul, to trust and to have faith that all things will work out in the end.
I will sing this song.....
Be still, my soul. The Lord is on thy side.
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev'ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend.
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake.
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still my soul: The waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.
Be still, my soul: The hour is hast'ning on
When we shall be forever with the the Lord.
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone.
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: When change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
And I cannot claim to have often "..with patience bear thy cross of grief or pain..." My. My cross of grief or pain.
I have gotten better at it, though. I've learned that I must hand the painful, unsolvable, heartwrenching problems to the Lord. While I have been blessed with strong shoulders to bear my burdens, my shoulders are not as strong as His. Learning to trust the Lord, I have also had to learn to trust in His timing. This is not an easy thing for me. I tend to see a problem and wish to solve it. Then. There. Right away.
Patience and waiting on the Lord are things I've had ample time to work on. Patience---and biting my tongue.
Case in point. I had a young mother give me a speech a while back about how she's going to give her little one year old child a sip of wine in the not too distant future. That she will mix the wine with some water, but that soon this child will know the taste of wine and that's a good thing (her words--not mine) because by introducing alcohol to her child, this child will be much less likely to become wild and an alcoholic later in life. When you don't allow your children to imbibe, they leave home and become boozers.(again---her words, not mine)
This little soliloquy by the young mother was entirely for my benefit. I sat there, watching and smiling. Nodding on occasion. Hmmming on others. I did not engage her nor did I dispute her except to say, "Each family has their own set of values and ideas on how to raise their children." She agreed, then went on to reiterate her plan and her reasoning behind it.
I can tell you that my heart was not very still at that point. I was being told, in no uncertain terms that my mothering, my values and my family's faith was wrong and misguided. I was being attacked, albeit in a calm and quite way. I tried to let her know that each person has their own way of raising their children. And that the way my husband and I raised our children was according to our faith, our love for our Father in Heaven and our desire to instill in our children a respect for their bodies and to learn to follow the commandments.
My soul is still, in that I know we did what was correct. My soul is not still, in that wrong choices have been made and consequences are inevitable. However, I am learning to still my soul, to trust and to have faith that all things will work out in the end.
I will sing this song.....
One of my very favorite hymns. Reminds me of that saying...something about, "Sometimes God calms the storm, and sometimes He quiets His child." This experience is a good example of that.(And, for the record, that mother in insane. I wish she'd tell her pediatrician about her plan.)
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