I was thinking recently about talents. We learn in D&C 46:11: "For all have not every gift given unto them; for there are many gifts, and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God." We are also directed to use our talents to bless our fellow humans and to glorify God, and if we don't use them for good, they might be taken away.
That's a little scary for someone like me, with so few in the first place.
But let's backtrack. For those unfamiliar with my faith, we believe that all of us lived eternally, long before we ever came to earth, as spirit children of Heavenly Parents. There came a time when we had progressed as far as we could, living in Heaven as spirits; we needed more in order to become like our Heavenly Parents. We needed physical bodies. We needed to experience adversity. We needed the opportunity to further exercise and practice our agency. And, thus, the Plan of Salvation was laid out, and we rejoiced at the opportunity to come to earth. We knew we would falter at times, that the experience of mortality would be trying, and that sometimes we wouldn't follow perfectly. But we also knew that for those times, we would be provided a Savior, whose healing atonement would cover all our pain, guilt, and suffering.
Here's where the plot gets a little foggy. The veil of mortality, necessary for us to act in faith, has left me (and all of us) without memory of my pre-earth life. I'm forced to use my imagination. Here's what I think might have happened:
The day the talents were being passed out, I figure I must have been doing what I do best: napping! Yep, as others lined up to receive specific talents tailor made for them, I was nowhere to be found. Eventually, my BFF Shulamith noticed and, as she always does, quickly came to my rescue:
"Mom! Wake up! You're missing all the talents. Hurry!" (She knew even then that we would get to be on earth at approximately the same time and that I would get to be her earthly mom.)
So run I did, just as fast as I could (which wasn't terribly fast; fast running was a talent I'd never have), arriving just as the very last talents were being distributed. I was told that there were only two left, but that they were the perfect ones for me: public speaking and writing/editing. What I didn't know at the time was that my tardiness meant I would totally suck at just about everything else. I wouldn't come to understand just how true that was until I was already here, trying to navigate earth life with just two talents.
I can't cook or sew or do crafts. I have the opposite of the Midas touch; everything I touch turns to "ugly." I'm not an athlete, I can't sing well, and I'm abysmal at learning new technology. I'm not good at math or science, I can't read maps, and my visual/spatial ability is pretty much nonexistent. I lose all board games, I can't draw or paint (I have no idea what anything looks like), and I have no clue how to decorate my home or make my stupid yard look decent. I could go on. I won't. If you can think of some other skill, you can assume I suck at that one too.
Nevertheless, I remain hopeful. Despite my tendency to nap through important meetings, I still feel confident that the two talents I was blessed with were just right for me, and I trust that if I use them to bless others, all will be well. So I really try!
Two weekends ago, I was in Rexburg for Amanda's graduation and also to visit my friend Lindsey. As Lindsey and I were eating lunch at Taco Time, which she made me choose, even though I'm awful at making decisions, we talked a bit about my editing skills. As the BYU-I semester had just ended, I had recently helped her edit a couple term papers. She commented that she likes the way I can read what she writes and then revise it to say exactly what she means. Through the years, each of my children has made a similar comment, and it soothes my soul to be able to serve my friends and family in this way. I can't cook them good food. I can't sew the tiny triangles on their Cub Scout uniforms. I can't throw them cool birthday parties. I can't decorate them a beautiful home or repair their car.
But dang, I can edit their writing to near perfection, making it clear, precise, concise, and correct! And hardly anything is more beautiful than clear, concise, correct writing. Obviously.
I've come to understand that it doesn't matter how many talents we have, as long as we magnify them best we can and use them to serve others. The numbers don't matter at all. I don't think I've ever met another person with as limited a skill set as mine, but I'm sure I'm not unique. If you, too, were napping that day in Heaven so long ago, take heart! It's all gonna be okay.
As President Hinckley liked to quote: "Everything is going work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out yet, that's because it's not the end."
Well, thank goodness!
No comments:
Post a Comment