Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Giving Up Guilt (for Lent)

For reasons that won't be enumerated here, I've had quite a long hiatus from blogging. I keep thinking about posting again, but haven't had the motivation or the inspiration.

Well friends, today I got both the motivation and the inspiration, in part by my sister's revamped blog and her goal to post every day. When I thought of what I would post every day, if I did such a thing, I suddenly remembered all of those stories that I love to tell but I've never written down anywhere. I would hate to forget how hilarious / ridiculous those stories were, but where to record them?

That's when the inspiration struck. At least for the month of March, I have a goal of posting daily stories from my life. They don't have to be from that day, month, or year; they just have to be stories from my life. (That's where the new blog title, "Stories of My Life," comes from. That and this song, slightly modified, by One Direction.) Most of the stories will probably be under the aforementioned categories of hilarious and/or ridiculous, as I'm not quite ready to bare my soul on social media and tell the stories of sorrow, anger, and frustration. You should all thank me for that. :)

So for today, since it's Ash Wednesday and I'm thinking about what to give up for my (Mormon) observation of Lent, what better start than a story of something that I gave up for something better?


This story begins on my mission. I was living in Taiwan and it was my second transfer "on island," which means I'd been in Taiwan for about two months. Strangely enough, my lifetime of type-A personality and perfectionism hit me hard-core as a missionary, and I felt more guilt than I ever had in my life. Every missed opportunity was a weighty burden on my soul. Preach My Gospel says talk to everyone, right? My first transfer I would almost have anxiety attacks when we were going outside to exercise at 6:30 in the morning because there were more than 1,000 people on the sidewalk. At 6:30 am. And HOW IN THE WORLD WAS I SUPPOSED TO TALK TO ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE? Clearly I was a terrible missionary because I wasn't doing what Preach My Gospel specifically outlined successful missionaries do. My companion that transfer had some sort of liver or kidney troubles, so she needed to use the bathroom as soon as she felt the urge to go, not wait 12 minutes until 9 pm came around and we could go back inside. This happened quite a few times at night, and we would go inside a few minutes early. Those 12 minutes sitting inside my apartment waiting for my companion to come out so we could do our nightly planning sessions felt like an eternity of disobedience. After all, obedient missionaries don't go inside until 9, and not a minute before! What else was I doing wrong? Did I smile enough as I was riding my bike through the rain and wind? After all, what if someone saw an unhappy missionary?! Did I testify enough in lessons? Did I study Chinese hard enough each day?

I won't even begin to list all of the things that I felt guilty about those first few transfers of my mission. But it was a heavy, heavy burden to bear each day. (You might think this sounds ridiculous now, but it was a big deal for me back then, as it is, I'm sure, for many missionaries.) 

In zone conference that transfer, the mission president told us the story of the Anti-Nephi-Lehis and how they buried their swords. He passed out papers with clip-art swords printed on them, and invited us all to pray about something that we could give up that was keeping us from fully serving God.

After several days of thinking about it, I couldn't think of anything that I could give up that would seem like a sacrifice. My companion decided to give up chocolate, or something like that, but the chocolate in Taiwan tasted like wax anyway so I didn't feel like that would be much of a sacrifice for me. And then one day, as I was riding my bike around the city on the way to the church, it hit me. 

Guilt. Guilt. I should bury my guilt deep in the earth.

"What a cop-out," was my immediate response. Other missionaries were giving up things that were important or really mattered in their lives, and I was giving up guilt? But the more I thought and prayed about it, the more I realized that yes, guilt was exactly what was holding me back. Because in the end, it really didn't matter if I didn't talk to every single person on the sidewalk every single second I was outside. Not only was that impossible, but it really wasn't up to me to do God's work. He could do it just fine by Himself, and was just letting me help. As a missionary, I was kind of like a 3-year-old helping mom make cookies. Have you ever had a child help you make cookies? Generally, all they do is make a mess. We all know that you could make the cookies by yourself just fine, but you want them to learn, and you want them to spend time with you. 

That's kind of how missionary work is. Like little inexperienced and under-skilled children, we go around making a mess as we try to preach the gospel. But you know what I learned when I decided to bury my guilt deep in the ground and just try to do God's work? When we freely admit our inadequacies but are not overwhelmed by them, God can do the most good through us. 

So wondering what to give up for Lent? I'd suggest letting go of perfectionist guilt for a couple of days. Try it out. See what happens.

3 comments:

  1. Yay Yay Yay!!! I'm so happy you posted! And it is beautiful. See, you do have stories that aren't ridiculous, hilarious, or discouraging! :) I love the cookie analogy.

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  2. 100% agree! It's something that I had to learn too- unfortunately not till I was almost done with my mission. Oh well, better late than never right? ;) Love the cookie analogy!

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