One of my very first recovery instructive experiences was in connection with potty training of my last child, a little boy (I’ll respect his anonymity on this one). This subject may be a little on the edge but it was so enlightening I can’t help sharing it. One day in the middle of the potty training process, the week that all mothers dread, I went to find my little friend. I found him hiding behind a chair. He had obviously had “an accident,” if you know what I mean, and was in grave need of assistance. Upon being discovered he looked up at me and said, “You don’t like me!”
I immediately thought about my own grave need for assistance in so many areas of life. I imagined myself, hiding out, hoping not to be discovered. I imagined the Lord searching for me, and the terror of having Him actually find me. Then I pictured myself looking up into His eyes and saying in all sincerity, “You don’t like me!”
As the moment with my son and the moment with my Lord intersected, I knew that the Lord’s feelings for me were just a tender as my feelings for my little boy. I knew that He was only interested in helping me, teaching me, training me, and that he would do it in the most loving way possible. I realized that to feel otherwise and to run away and hide from Him would only delay my progress. I understood for the first time that imagining that He didn’t like me, because I wasn’t “trained,” was not any kind of humility. It was a belief in a lie, perhaps the greatest lie that can be told! It is a lie that has the power to delay His ability to bless my life indefinitely.
The point was driven home several days later. My little guy and I continued working on the goal at hand. One afternoon it looked as though history was going to repeat itself. I called out to my little buddy who had suddenly disappeared. I followed my nose (if you know what I mean). It was the same little boy, same mother, same chair, and same need for a major clean up. But this time was different. Upon being discovered new words flowed out of his innocent little mouth. The words were a stunning to me. The words were, “I don’t like you!”
“I can’t believe you just said that!” My mind was a million miles away from potty training. My little boy was demonstrating to me the exact process so many of us go through, the destructive actions that correspond with these thoughts, “I am imperfect! My life is a mess! My need for change is obvious! I need help but I’m embarrassed! I’m a big disappointment to God! I will run away from my Helper, my Savior! I’m sure He doesn’t like me! I don’t think I like him very much either.”
Finally we become desperate for help. We see no other solution than to finally come out from behind the chair, out from hiding, no matter how mortifying our condition is, no matter how bad we think we smell, and turn to God for help. Recovery begins when we are finally willing to experiment with the notion that “He likes us!” Living in recovery for the rest of our lives is made possible because over time we realize that “we like Him; we love Him!”
By Nannette W.
Posted Thursday, October 16, 2008
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved.
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This morning I was reading my scriptures as my 7 year old daughter Abigail was trying to turn the keyboard piano on the setting she wanted. Her words stopped me mid verse. I began deep reflection to what they really mean. She said loudly, "Mom, what's normal?" My wife knowing Abby is in first grade and learning how to read responded, "N," "O," "R," "M," "A," "L." After a few moments of silence, Abby yelled again, "Mom, where's normal?" Finally, my wife sent my son to show Abby where normal is on the keyboard controls. "See, it's right here." He stated. "Ohh,' she responded thoughfully.
My mind thought about the words, "What's Normal?" and "Where's normal?" I realize I don't know exactly what normal is myself, so who am I to judge or define what normal is. I thought about the phrase, "A power greater than myself can resore me to sanity." Normality is consisered a synonym of sanity (below). I have also heard the term sanity can mean complete. Many times I feel more familiar with the antonyms of normal instead of close to the synonyms. Because I am an unfit judge of what normal is I considered "What can I do?" I remembered President Monson's priesthood talk on Saturday, October 4, 2008. The three things he asked me to do are "1) Learn what you need to learn. Do what you need to do. Be what you need to be." I will start here with a primary focus on Jesus Christ for how to do what He wants. He is the Son sent to help me see, learn, do and be what Heavenly Father wants. Jesus Christ can help me, kindly lead me, and show me how to become complete, whole, . . . "normal."
(3 thesaurus results for: sanity
Roget's 21st Century Thesaurus, Third Edition
Main Entry: sanity
Part of Speech: noun
Definition: mental health; soundness of judgment
Synonyms: acumen, balance, clear mind, common sense, comprehension, good judgment, healthy mind, intelligence, judiciousness, levelheadedness, lucidity, lucidness, marbles, normality, prudence, rationality, reason, reasonableness, right mind, sagacity, saneness, sense, sound mind, soundness, stability, understanding, wit
Antonyms: craziness, insanity, instability, madness, unsoundness)
Bruce
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