Look to live- treatment for the wounded spirit.

My time as a teenager is instructive to me.

The day to day details of my life then are vague.

However, how I felt through those years remains with me.

I'm thankful for this.

It's made me a better mother.

I remember vividly the feelings that overcame me when I made stupid choices.

I remember the feelings that led me to make those stupid choices.

I remember how my spirit suffered.

Like our bodies our spirits can be wounded.

Wounded by 

sin, 

pain, 

anger, 

sorrow,

and

regret.

I sliced my finger once while opening a can of tomato sauce.

I treated the wound, and covered it with a band-aid

It took awhile for it to heal.

 I don't hurt myself physically everyday.

But, everyday my spirit gets "sliced".

  How do I treat the wound?

Through the Atonement.

Through Christ I can heal.

But,

I must confess.

This is not always my first treatment option.

The treatment is easy enough-

Sincere prayer often.

Repentance in those prayers.

Reading, pondering and applying the words of Christ

found in the scriptures.

 Living the commandments of God.

In the past as I've read of Moses and the brazen serpent

I've always been shocked that some did not look so they could live.

Why, when it was so easy?

Today.

I ask this of myself.

Do I look to live?

Spiritual death is all to real.

I see it in the faces of those who don't know the treatment. 

I've been taught.

Repent.

Pray.

Read.

Obey.

Love.

 I find myself turning to other means to treat my wounds.

Artificial means.

Most often the kinds of things 

that dull my senses.

Dull my feelings

or mask them. 

Eating too much.

Surfing the web way too long.

Shopping without $$ (Retail therapy)

I can't see the wounds to my spirit,

but they are very real.

It's not always easy to see,

to feel.

If I'm honest with myself.

If I drown out all the things that pull my attention

from my heart.

If I pray out loud.

I hear,

I feel,

I know that the wounds are there.

I am not perfect.

I get angry.

I get prideful.

I do lots of things that tear at my heart.

My soul gets week.

Diseased if I don't look to live.

I want to overcome.

I want to heal.

I want to be whole.

 

Snow Day

 Jeff and the kids stayed home from their duties today.It's pretty nasty outside.Frozen rain on top of snow.  I was thinking,a blanket of snow brings commonality to the world.Most weather does.I had to go out yesterday.I was trying to get around  along with everyone around me. Living still happens even when itscold,wet,icy,dangerous.I had to get help with my cart of groceries.Couldn't get them out to the van without a good Samaritan.She pulled and I pushed.I thanked her over and over again.Having something in common makes people more loving.I wish I could cover the world in my own "blanket of snow". So many commonalities are gone these days.Manners,Good language,Chastity.Living on one income.The one income thing has been on my mind.Stuff would be cheaper,if we all wanted less. Just my thoughts.So happy to be warm.So happy to be home.

    ♥

My heart

Image by Gabriela Camerotti via Flickr

I've been thinking a lot about my spirit. 

The part of me that doesn't need any bronzer or mascara.Ever since I went to dinner with Rebecca (a blind woman in our ward), Ever since I got an email from my little sister,

And then again this morning

when I read an article written about Nie  "When she awoke, everything had dramatically changed: her physical appearance having to endure constant pain and her sense of who she was.  Stephanie was forced to reinvent herself."
  I keep thinking about the qualities of my heart. I've been spending a lot of time trying to get my body in shape.1 hour of spin class.1 hour of Zumba.Both on the same day.My body is changing and I'm happy about thatbut my spirit could use a workout.Everyday my attention and focus is on the things in my life that I use my senses to understand.Today I'm trying to find the senses to understand me.The me that doesn't change with mascara or a really cute outfit, The me that I blind woman would like to know.To sit and talk with her gave me something to ponder about.She will never see the outfits I wear,the contents of my home,her husband may explain my phyisical attributes, but her first impressions of me were formed when I spoke with her.And those words were from inside.I think over and over about Nie.What would I do?How would I be?So many of the things that defined her identity were stripped from her.Yet she still remains so beautiful to me.How does a woman really define herself?Is the divinity within me tangible to others?
♥