But Behold, I mistake

This morning, I felt like a jerk. I acted like Amukek when he told the people of Ammonihah:

"I never have known much of the ways of the Lord, and his mysteries and marvelous power. I said I never had known much of these things; but behold, I mistake, for I have seen much of his mysteries and his marvelous power; yea, even in the preservation of the lives of this people. 

"Nevertheless, I did harden my heart, for I was called many times and I would not hear; therefore I knew concerning these things, yet I would not know; therefore I went on rebelling against God, in the wickedness of my heart..."  (Alma 10:5-6)

Early this morning, there was a knock at our door.  I was the only one awake and I called through the door asking who was there.  "The missionaries", they called out.  I opened the door and let them in.  I asked them to talk quietly because there were others sleeping in the apartment.

Now, you know me, right?  I love missionaries.  It was missionaries who saved me in so many ways.  I admire them for giving up so much time and travel to wherever they may be called - and at their own expense - to teach the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.

But that isn't how I acted this morning.

Yes, I let them in.  Yes, I gave them water because they had been riding their bikes and were thirsty.  But I have to admit, I worried about what my roommates would think if they knew I had let the elders into the apartment.  They are both non-LDS and, well, they sort of make fun of my faith at times.  I can handle that.  That's what happens when you live "in the world".  I knew that when I moved in with them.

The elders asked some pretty pointed questions - and I believe they were following the Spirit when they did so.  I, however, was listening to another spirit altogether.  I was taking counsel from my fears, worrying that my roommates would wake up and walk in on us.

Now, what's wrong with that picture?

I'll get to that in a minute.

The elders kindly asked what it would take to get me to go back to church.  I told them I have no plans whatsoever to go back.  They asked if I would go just once, long enough to take the sacrament. I told them no.


But the whole time they were here, asking these divinely inspired, heart-piercing questions, and the whole time I was doing all I could to shut them down and wishing they would leave, I was dying inside.  I wanted to open up.  I wanted to tell them what was really in my heart.  I wanted to bear testimony to them that I knew that what they had spoken was exactly right on; that I still know and believe in the restored gospel.  I wanted to share with them my own conversion story and how very much I rely on Jesus Christ, even now (or especially now) that I'm inactive.

But I didn't.

I let them do almost all the talking.  I let my fear of what my roommates would think dictate my words and actions.  I let myself down and I let God down.  I feared man (roommates) more than I feared the Lord and His authorized representatives that He sent to me.

Before they left, they asked if there was anything they could do for me.  I asked them to pray for me when they got home.  They then asked if they could have a prayer.  Yes, right here in the apartment.  I am happy to say I was happy to have them pray.

After they left, I felt awful.  I went outside and thought about the whole experience.  I silently prayed, asking God to forgive me.  It was only then that I felt someone speaking to my spirit.

"This is your home, too.  If you want to have the missionaries come in, you have that right".

How true.

Hopefully the next time the missionaries come knocking, I will be a little more courageous and at least let them sit down to drink their water.

May you have a blessed and Happy Easter and remember that now as with Christmas, Jesus is the reason for the season.


Brother H.