Conference

Yesterday in Relief Society we talked about the most recent General Conference. Someone mentioned that we should focus on getting what we need to get out of conference, rather than watching it and thinking, "Oh, I hope So-and-so is listening because they really need to work on!"

Being introspective rather than judgemental is certainly important when it comes to matters of the spirit, but I had to laugh because one of my most touching parts of conference was listening to President Uchtdorf's talk on Sunday morning and thinking, "Oh, I hope So-and-so is listening because they really need to hear this!"

And I was filled with hope that, perhaps for the first time in years, they were listening.

So-and-so sent me an email recently that said, "I know nothing about genealogy (mostly because I suck and am just now trying really hard to be a good person) but our ward has a goal to submit a name to the temple. Can you help me?"

I've been thinking about So-and-so a lot (more) since that email. I don't think I've helped them much with genealogy because I've never actually had much success in finding long-lost ancestors. Most of what I do has to do with stories more than line-work, and I think that's okay because it's still turning my heart to my fathers. (Though, don't worry, So-and-so, I am still slowly sifting through our family tree searching for a name for you...but I make no promises).

Anyway, I've been thinking about So-and-so and how much I don't believe that they suck.

Elder Uchdorf's talk spoke to me, personally, assuring me that my faults aren't unforgivable. His words were so sweet and hopeful that I found myself hoping that So-and-so was listening, too, and finding them sweet and hopeful as well:

As I pondered the history of Dresden and marvelled at the ingenuity and resolve of those who restored what had been so completely destroyed, I felt the sweet influence of the Holy Spirit. Surely, I thought, if man can take the ruins, rubble, and remains of a broken city and rebuild an awe-inspiring structure that rises toward the heavens, how much more capable is our Almighty Father to restore His children who have fallen, struggled, or become lost?

It matters not how completely ruined our lives may seem. It matters not how scarlet our sins, how deep our bitterness, how lonely, abandoned, or broken our hearts may be. Even those who are without hope, who live in despair, who have betrayed trust, surrendered their integrity, or turned away from God can be rebuilt. Save those rare sons of perdition, there is no life so shattered that it cannot be restored.

The joyous news of the gospel is this: because of the eternal plan of happiness provided by our loving Heavenly Father and through the infinite sacrifice of Jesus the Christ, we can not only be redeemed from our fallen state and restored to purity, but we can also transcend mortal imagination and become heirs of eternal life and partakers of God’s indescribable glory.

This talk goes hand-in-hand with one of my favourite talks from last April, by Elder Brent H. Nielson:

All of us fall short of the glory of the Father (see Romans 3:23). All of us need the Savior’s Atonement to heal us. All of us are lost and need to be found. This revelation that day helped me know that my sister and I both needed the Savior’s love and His Atonement. Susan and I were actually on the same path back home.

 I don't know how to tie this up neatly with a bow right now because I mostly want to pull my hair out (Zoë screamed until 2:00 in the morning, was up several times in the night, and has now been screaming for about four hours today and I don't know what's wrong with her and since nothing seems to be (she's fed, changed, not running a fever) I've trapped her in the living room because I can't hold her right now so she's just...screaming) so I suppose I'll just say that no matter how much you think you "suck" you—and I—are still 100% redeemable.