Poetry and musings of a zany Mormon girl who is very proud of her Erda roots.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Oh Rats!

So, in the LDS church  the first Sunday of every month is dedicated to bringing oneself back to the Lord via abstaining from food and drink for approximately 24 hours. Fasting like this is used in many religions and cultures to help people focus spiritually.

It really does work, too.

Try it some time if you don't believe me.

The catch is: you have to be trying to focus spiritually or else it doesn't work. You just feel hungry.

In any case, yesterday was our Fast Sunday at church because next week is the General Conference for the church.

On Fast Sundays we clear the schedule and let anyone come up and say how they feel about God, Jesus Christ, the church, or other spiritual things; sharing testimony to the edification of those in the congregation.

In my ward this is one 10 year old boy whose testimony always makes me sit up and pay attention. Mostly because he tries to be so grown up yet somehow manages to show his age. Despite being young, however, he can certainly pack a wallop of profound thought.

Yesterday he hopped up and was the very first person to the stand.

*sigh,* he began, "You know how when you are sitting down there and you need to get up here, you feel like you are glued to the seat and someone has sucked out all of your insides. But then when you get up here you have too many insides."

He went on to relay a story about how his mom's great grandfather was a soldier during WWI.

On a cold, stormy night in the trenches of France, this man lay under a thin, damp blanket certain that he would freeze to death. At some time during the night he managed to fall into a fitful sleep. The next morning he woke up warm for the first time in months. This surprised him and he thought it must mean he had died and gone to heaven! Opening his eyes, he realized that he wasn't dead, but still covered with that damp blanket in the mud of the trenches. Pulling back the blanket he discovered the reason for the unusual warmth: he was covered by rats who had been sharing his blanket and inadvertently their body heat as well.


This story, shared by a precocious little boy, has stuck in my head all day.

There are times when I feel at the end of my rope. I cannot go on because there is no place left to go but to fall. At the last moment I am always saved. Whether it be by another person, a thought, or a feeling. The thing is: I can rarely appreciate being saved because it feels like yet another trial.

But sometimes angels come in strange shapes. The trick is learning to see them with spiritual eyes.

I need to work on that.

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