Being Willing to Listen

I can't say that I have noticed any specific blessings to our family as a consequence of Ethan serving a mission.  Other people have lists of blessings, so I'm not sure what's up with that.  However, over the past few weeks, I have noticed something different in my life, and I think it's because of Ethan serving his mission.

I have always thought that I'm pretty sensitive to spiritual promptings.  Little things that I feel I should do, or say, and I do them.  However, since Ethan left on his mission, I sometimes feel like the Spirit is almost shouting in my ear, telling me what I need to do, and it's hard for me to ignore, or question if I really heard it, or not.

Glo and I started reading The Book of Mormon together at the beginning of the year.  We are reading along with Ethan and the Poland Warsaw mission.  If we stay on schedule (and we've had no problems so far), we will finish the entire book by the end of April.  Since Glo has never read the entire book, I've taken the task rather seriously, wanting her to be successful on so many levels.

Each day, we curl up together.  We have our own cheap copies of the book, and a palette of colored pencils next to us.  For every scripture about Christ, we color the scripture red.  It's green for obedience, blue for faith, and orange for repentance.  I must admit that it makes both of us think pretty hard about each scripture, wondering if we can color one in.

She and I will alternate reading verses.  There are times when an overwhelming feeling hits me that we should discuss the meaning of  verse.  At first, I thought she would balk at this plan, because there is so much to read in a day and I thought she would want to plow through it.  However, she never *sighs*, or complains, and in fact is happy to share her own thoughts with me.  Sometimes it takes us over an hour to get through a couple of pages, and neither one of us minds.  I can see that through the discussions that we have, not only are we growing closer together, but she is gaining a testimony of the book, and of the gospel itself.

I wish I could say that I am always so obedient to listening to the still small voice.  However, I still have much to learn.

Two weeks ago, I was in physical therapy (am I ever anywhere else?), and a man sat down next to me for therapy also.  There's nothing special about that--there are lots of people everywhere in one big room--but I had never seen him there before.  Considering I've been in therapy for four months now, I know pretty much everyone there and have (depressingly) seen people come and go.  He saw me talking to some of the people that I know, and so he struck up a conversation with me.

This guy stood out in the room.  In fact, he would stand out living in central PA where less than 1% of the population is African American.  He could easily be described as a really big black man.  His muscles were ginormous, and his smile was just about as big.  He had recently had both of his knees replaced.  When I asked him about it, he said that he had been 500+ pounds two years ago, a drug addict, an alcoholic and living in Philadelphia where he saw one of his daughters murdered.  His other daughter had left the Philly area to come to State College to go to school and to raise a family.  Realizing that he would never see his daughter or grandchildren again, he decided to change his life.  He lost the weight (he is 240 now), and stopped the drugs and alcohol.  Too, he started talking about how he had found God.

Here's where the Spirit comes into the story.  In my head:  Larisa, talk to him about the church.

Sometimes the voice was so loud, that I couldn't hear him talking.  I started talking back in my head.  What should I say?  Will he be offended?  Will anyone else in the room hear us?  What if he rejects me?

I kept talking to him about the journey he had taken, going from such a bad place in his life to his new found happiness.  Could I bring up the church in the conversation?  Or even bring up the Savior?

Needless to say, I didn't listen.  I got up from my therapy appointment after telling him how inspiring his story was, told him that I would probably see him again and said goodbye.

I haven't seen him again, and I feel so guilty that I didn't say anything.

Next story.

Somebody that I care for was suffering last week.  They don't live with me, so I couldn't know of their struggles.  However, I had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to call them.  Every day, I would wake up, worrying about them, and thinking that I should call.  I didn't, because I assumed the thought was just in my head.

Then, come to find out today, that they have been feeling down and are dealing with the same feelings of inadequacy that I have dealt with my entire life.  How bad I feel that I wasn't there for them.  If I had only listened to the promptings of the Spirit....

Yesterday, while taking the sacrament, I was reflecting on the experience in therapy.  I told Heavenly Father that, presented with the same situation again, I don't think I could be courageous enough to talk to anyone about the church.  If he really wants me to share the gospel, he's going to need to give me the courage to do so and put the words in my mouth.  I realize that he presented me with a prime opportunity and told me what I needed to do, but I was just too scared and faithless.  I'm hoping that he and I can reach a compromise on this point :-)

The Lord is trying to teach me.  I can't deny that the voice has been there in my head.  As much as I try and listen, and do, sometimes I still lack the faith to believe that the thoughts are divinely inspired, or I lack the faith to trust in the whisperings and do what I am told.  I know that I need to be more willing to listen.