False Insecurity

"Now may I speak, not to the slackers in the Kingdom, but to those who carry their own load and more; not to those lulled into false security, but to those buffeted by false insecurity, who, though laboring devotedly in the Kingdom, have recurring feelings of falling forever short... There is a difference, therefore, between being 'anxiously engaged' and being over-anxious and thus under engaged... We can distinguish more clearly between divine discontent and the devil's dissonance, between dissatisfaction with self and disdain for self. We need the first and must shun the second, remembering that when conscience calls to us from the next ridge, it is not solely to scold but also to beckon." (Neal A. Maxwell, "Notwithstanding My Weakness," Ensign, Nov. 1976, 12-14.)

I came across this quote in my journal; I had glued it in many months ago. The timing of finding it today is ironic because just last night I was talking to a friend about the modern epidemic of never feeling good enough. I certainly see it in myself and from what I can judge, notice that it doesn't end with just me. Where does it come from and how are we all so susceptible to it?

I think most Latter-day Saints suffer under a false idea about what degree of perfection they must attain before enjoying blessings of the atonement (i.e. feeling accepted, loved, valued, empowered, etc.) It's been said before but Mormons tend to feel more comfortable over emphasizing the justice of God before they do His mercy. This is an excerpt from my journal in '09 I find illuminating: "I've been pondering revelation lately, particularly personal revelation. This, induced by a comment made by Becky at work about a man living in sin claiming to receive (after much prayer about it) a long awaited confirmation from God to go ahead and live a homosexual lifestyle. She commented almost arrogantly, 'Uh, you're not getting any revelation from God, buddy! Not 'til your sins are confessed, taken care of, and squared away.' This immediately hit quite abrasively on my feelings for more reasons than those I'll discuss. While I understand practicing homosexuality is wrong (and that it is contrary to the nature of God to confirm that it is correct to someone), I found her qualifications for receiving revelation to be cold and merciless. After all, we are all sinners, none of us are perfect and neither do we need to be to claim blessings from the atonement. At what point do my weaknesses feel 'squared away.' I'm regretfully a work in progress, not a completed project. That is exactly why I need revelation. Joseph Smith said, 'The Holy Ghost is a revelator... no man can receive the Holy Ghost without receiving revelations.'"

I worry that in times when I most desperately need to open myself to the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, I hang my head and count the reasons why I'm probably not worthy of it. 'I'm too this and not enough that and I'm not feeling like I'm on a spiritual high right now so I'm doing something wrong!' It's this cognitive habit that puts me at risk of dealing with the chronic illness of feeling to fall forever short.

Another note, somewhat related: I hated sitting through Relief Society yesterday, which is uncharacteristic of me. I longed to stand up and walk out. The lesson was based off the conference address, "Moral Discipline." I had read the talk last Sunday in anticipation of this lesson and looked forward to discussing it. However, it wasn't so enjoyable. One of the frustrations that come along with attending a family ward is that commentary during lessons (and even the lesson material itself) seems to forever revolve around the "how-to's" of raising children; less on understanding principles and more on teaching principles to your children. As the subject turned to discussing "the wicked world" that we live in, the question was raised, "How should parents explain to their children the poor behavior of close family or friends that is in opposition to church standards." Here's the comment that killed me, "I don't like the saying, 'They're good people, they just do bad things.' I tell my kids, 'No! They're bad people that do bad things. They're just plain evil.' Let's call a spade a spade." I suddenly felt in a fighting mood. Excuse me? So, tell me, if I am pursuing an education, holding a steady job, and am a friendly neighbor who happens to be a Mormon who smokes, am I evil? Or what if I'm as outgoing as can be but you notice strange friends I keep company with, am I evil? At what point do the outwardly apparent weaknesses cancel out my worth and dump me into the category of being "evil"? I was really surprised by this attitude. Maybe I'm different because I escaped the bubble for three plus years and relearned a perspective. Maybe it's just semantics and there is a disconnect in communication. Whatever the case, I notice this attitude of perceived self-piety and condemnation that really puts me in a contentious mood. I don't really have anything else to say about this. I've been blogging too long. I'll end on this note:

I am sooooo grateful for my time, not just living in California, but attending probably one of the most liberal schools in the United States with one of the most diverse demographics both ethnically and morally. I enjoyed a camaraderie with a most unexpected cross-section of people. I loved them and they loved me in spite of the almost blasphemous differences between us. And I truly saw great things in them with all the roughness and irreverence of their exterior. It's hard for me to believe that people can survive a purely Utah existence.