Okay, EVERY time I log in to Blogger, I check the "Remember me" box--you know, the one that's supposed to automatically populate my username and/or password the next time I return to the website from the same computer--and it NEVER remembers me.
I've checked that box about a million times. (Two million, actually.) Still doesn't work. EVER.
I find it personally insulting.
MOJ
Experience
Had two amazing experiences yesterday. The first was that I did my first-ever jury trial. Very sobering experience--I’ll have to write about that another time. The second experience was an after-bedtime conversation with S.
I’ve had a lot of “lousy parent” moments lately—frustrating moments where I can’t seem to understand or get through to my children. But as I was listening to a General Conference talk by Jairo Mazzagardi this week, it struck me that, when asked a question of eternal significance by his grand-daughter, he “silently prayed for inspiration” before he answered her. I realized, of course, that I have done very little of that, and I resolved to try to remember.
So last night, S told me about something he's sort of given up on, spiritually. I remembered Elder Mazzagardi and prayed for help. And the most amazing thing happened.
I talked to my son.
Only, it wasn’t like it usually is, where I talk at him and he throws out one tangential concern after another to disregard everything I say.
We spoke about what repentance is, about how change takes time, about the Parable of the Pickle, and about how God’s vision is so much larger than ours (2 Peter 3:8) that He loves the eternal us: the “now us” and the 96-year old us (and beyond). That insight was powerful—for both of us.
I was reminded that God loves my boy even more than I do (much more than I do), and that if I can tap into the grand vision of who my son really is, I could love him more.
I was also reminded that God loves the eternal me, just as He loves the eternal S. And if I can tap into the grand vision of who I really am, it might just change how I feel about my own life journey.
It was clearly as much a lesson for me as it was for him—something both of us need to learn, something I wish someone had told me when I was ten.
I’ve had a lot of “lousy parent” moments lately—frustrating moments where I can’t seem to understand or get through to my children. But as I was listening to a General Conference talk by Jairo Mazzagardi this week, it struck me that, when asked a question of eternal significance by his grand-daughter, he “silently prayed for inspiration” before he answered her. I realized, of course, that I have done very little of that, and I resolved to try to remember.
So last night, S told me about something he's sort of given up on, spiritually. I remembered Elder Mazzagardi and prayed for help. And the most amazing thing happened.
I talked to my son.
Only, it wasn’t like it usually is, where I talk at him and he throws out one tangential concern after another to disregard everything I say.
We spoke about what repentance is, about how change takes time, about the Parable of the Pickle, and about how God’s vision is so much larger than ours (2 Peter 3:8) that He loves the eternal us: the “now us” and the 96-year old us (and beyond). That insight was powerful—for both of us.
I was reminded that God loves my boy even more than I do (much more than I do), and that if I can tap into the grand vision of who my son really is, I could love him more.
I was also reminded that God loves the eternal me, just as He loves the eternal S. And if I can tap into the grand vision of who I really am, it might just change how I feel about my own life journey.
It was clearly as much a lesson for me as it was for him—something both of us need to learn, something I wish someone had told me when I was ten.
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