One lower light shining

So, back at the beginning of this year, I decided I was going to read the Book of Mormon twice this year; one quick, straight read through, and one in-depth, cover to cover study of it.  I wanted to finish the first read through before the end of the semester in April, and I calculated that by February I’d have to be finishing up with the book of Jacob.

Um…yeah.  Well, I’m not quite there yet.

The biggest difficulty is just finding a regular time to read the scriptures.  I remember thinking and praying about it, back a few semesters ago, and figuring out a time that worked really well.  Now, I don’t know exactly when would work for me.

I would like to read in the mornings, but the trouble there is that I’m not much of a morning person.  It would probably help if I didn’t stay up past 2:00 am every other night , but that’s proving to be a difficult habit to break.

So which time generally works best to read the scriptures?  I’m not talking about an in-depth, closed-door study session, just a quick reading for the general overview.  Are mornings best?  Evenings?  Afternoons, during lunch break?

I tend to be very spontaneous and disorganized, so this is a very real difficulty for me.  I haven’t had regular study since my mission.  I remember dedicating myself in the temple to reading the Book of Mormon every day for the rest of my life, and feeling a distinct stupor of thought as I attempted to do so.  Sure enough, that was a resolution I didn’t keep–I guess God was trying to tell me not to get too hard on myself for it.

Even though consistent scripture study is a struggle for me, I don’t think it’s worth feeling guilty about it.  As important as it is to read the scriptures on a regular basis, beating myself up about it isn’t going to improve anything.  When it comes to things to feel guilty about, guilt over not reading the scriptures has got to be one of the most useless (and common) things in this church.

Here’s what I’m going to do: try very, very, VERY hard to get to bed every night before 1:00 am so that I can get up in time to do a little scripture study.  At the very least, I can read a chapter or two as I walk from my apartment to campus.  And if that doesn’t work, I’ll just carry the little pocket sized Book of Mormon with me all day and be more conscientious about reading from it.

Also, I’ll post more of my thoughts in quick posts here on this blog.  Shorter, more compact entries than the ones I’ve been writing.  Some of the previous ones have been pretty good, but pretty freaking huge at the same time.

So that’s the plan.  It really can be a struggle to read the scriptures regularly, but I guess it’s also one of those things you just have to rededicate yourself to on a daily basis.  If you miss a day, don’t let it get you down.

I was reading through my missionary journals today and read something interesting:

(Tuesday May 11th, 2004) The longer I’m out, the more embarrassed I am with how I acted a week or month before. I guess it’s a sign of positive growth.

It was interesting to read that, because I’ve been feeling a lot like that recently. In fact, I’ve been feeling this way since midway through the Jordan study abroad this past summer. Here’s what I said about a particularly life changing conversation with one of my friends:

If I had any pride keeping me from being honest with myself about what I needed to change (and, let’s face it, I did), it was completely shattered in the first ten minutes of this conversation. About an hour later, I came away with my perspective completely changed. It took me a few weeks to get over the desire to repeatedly flagellate myself for being such an idiot for all this time, but when I did, I started picking up the pieces and putting myself together again.

(link to full post)

Have you ever felt like the Emperor with his new clothes when the kid pointed out that he was really naked all that time? I suppose it’s easy to feel that way when you’re going through a period of intense personal reflection and growth. You feel embarrassed for all of the stupid, selfish, shortsighted things you did (or all the thoughtful, charitable, outgoing things you failed to do). You wonder how you could have done those things and, in extreme circumstances, feel ashamed to even show your face again to certain people.

When I got back from Jordan, however, I noticed something funny: all of the people around me were unknowingly doing all of the embarrassing things I was trying not to do. I won’t give any specific examples, since I don’t want to upset any of my friends, but basically it has to do with acting thoughtlessly and not caring enough about people on a personal level.

I read a really awesome novel over the summer that has a quote that I think is pertinent to this. The novel is Spin by Robert Charles Wilson, and I think it is one of the best science fiction novels I have ever read. The quote is this:

Don’t be upset. The world is full of surprises. We’re all born strangers to ourselves and each other, and we’re seldom formally introduced.

I don’t know for sure, but I think it all comes down to this ultimately. We sometimes operate under this illusion that we really know people–our friends, our enemies, even members of our family–when really, there is so much more that we don’t know and that may in fact be unknowable.

But we think that we know each other, and because of this we start to judge each other. From there, it’s easy to start to put a value on our associations, to determine whom is worth listening to, whom is worth our time; whom we want to pursue, whom we want to avoid.

But isn’t that a form of objectification? Doesn’t that run counter to the gospel? Jesus walked with sinners and taught us to look beneath the surface and see the value in other people. He saw enough value in all of us, even the most evil among us, to suffer infinitely on our behalf.

If we are to be like Jesus, should we not do likewise? Of course, we cannot suffer the way Jesus suffered, but we can step outside of ourselves and genuinely value all of the people around us, can’t we?

At least we can work on it. And if we are to work on it, doesn’t that mean that we must learn to recognize that everyone is ultimately unknowable? When we think that we completely know someone, that we have them “figured out,” that’s when we fall into the trap. Socrates was the wisest man in Athens because he admitted that he knew nothing. When it comes to our relationships with others, wouldn’t it be wise of us to do the same?

Of course, for a long time, I didn’t act this way. I thought I had everyone figured out, and from time to time I acted like quite a jerk. When I think about it now, it sometimes makes me squirm.

I guess it’s a sign of personal growth, though. My mom’s mission president had a saying that she posted on our refrigerator growing up, and that said “don’t let the ten things you did wrong keep you from seeing the one thing you did right.” That’s how I felt rereading that little piece of wisdom in my missionary journals. It’s not worth beating yourself up over it. If you feel like an idiot, that’s a good thing, not a bad thing. At least you know you’re growing.