Be Strong, Be Brave, Be Good, Behave

“None of us can have as many virtues as the fountain-pen or half its cussedness; but we can try.” –Mark Twain on Common Sense

I hate driving in traffic.  I also hate driving into construction zones on my alternate routes to avoid traffic.  It is frustrating.  I can’t think of anything that makes me more irrational and angry than sitting in my car with a bunch of other irrational and angry drivers on the road.  Sometimes I shout at cars.  After a bit of a close call the other day I said very loudly, “Damn it!”  Realizing I had a child sitting in the car with me I edited that exclamation to, “I mean darn.  Darn you, Car!”  Whoops.

On Sunday in church a speaker sweetly made a joke about how if we didn’t want to feel the Spirit we should get out our phones, get on Pinterest, and text our friends.  I think the point was that if we wanted to feel the Spirit we would listen and not play on our phones.  It is actually a very good point, but for the next five minutes it took me every ounce of self-control to refrain from picking up my phone and texting my roommate, I don’t want to feel the Spirit, purely out of spite.

Sometimes I think I might be a little wicked.  I roll my eyes, I sass my father, I mutter under my breath.  I can be difficult; usually I am even trying to not be that way.  I blame human frailty.  Don't get me wrong, I am also sweet and kind and pleasant to be around, but sometimes it is just so hard to be good!  Here’s what Elder Jeffrey Holland says about being good: “With the gift of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the strength of heaven to help us, we can improve, and the great thing about the gospel is we get credit for trying, even if we don’t always succeed.”  CREDIT FOR TRYING!  Hallelujah.

Being good is harder for me now than it ever was.  I will never be the same person I was before I entered the world of sickbeds and doctors’ offices.  I am more irritable and withdrawn.  I am exhausted.  My right side hurts almost always.  I have to watch my language.  The last time I had to “watch my language” I was 10 and trying to find words that rhymed with witch.  I get headaches when there is too much sensory stimulation.  I hate crowds of people.  I don’t think I remember how to throw a baseball.  Some nights when I go to bed my body suddenly remembers all the late nights, all the crying, all the pleading with God, all the fear for my life and distress of the past 5 years, and I curl up into a ball and cry a little more.  It feels like muscle memory to me.

Oh how I would love to be good, but at least I get credit for trying.  So I try.  I try to say my prayers, I try to go to all three hours of church, I try to play nice with the other kids, I try to be nice and mean it, I try to be happy, I try to be good.  I try really hard, and you know what, I do okay.  Life is like climbing a mountain.  It's uphill, downhill, rocky, flat, and sometimes it just feels like a vertical slab of rock, but we keep climbing.  I try to be good, but I try not to mind so much when I fall short.  That is what Jesus is for.  Most of us are probably doing a lot better than we think we are.

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