In the last few months I have learned a great deal about service. Mainly, I realize that I need to do a lot more of it in order to feel closer to my Savior. It is so easy to get caught up in our own problems that we forget that, "When ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God." (Scripture can be found here .)The Savior taught His disciples, “For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: but whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it.” 5I believe the Savior is telling us that unless we lose ourselves in service to others, there is little purpose to our own lives. Those who live only for themselves eventually shrivel up and figuratively lose their lives, while those who lose themselves in service to others grow and flourish—and in effect save their lives.
This, I know. I may have forgotten until a few weeks ago. I was so down and out. So heavy, so full of absolute torment and sorrow. Ready to throw in the towel and give up. This is when Heavenly Father was telling me, "Don't give up. Just a little while longer. It can get better, just...don't give up." So with the answer that I didn't want to hear ringing through my mind, and my heart heavy and burdened, I walked through most days sad, depressed, unsure. However, this day, was life changing in such a simple way.
I saw him as I was walking home from taking my child to school. He was working in the vacant lot, spraying weeds. It was blistering, even still being quite early in the morning. He had on a face mask, a heavy hat, a winter coat, and thick gloves that went up to his elbows. I was sweating buckets, and when I saw him, my heart went out to him. You may be thinking, "Well, that is his job, this is what he gets paid to do." and to you I would say, "Do you think every person who works at McDonald's wants to be there or maybe perhaps it is the only job they can do? Either way that is beside the point.
I am shy by my nature. That seems weird to say if you knew me, you would think opposite perhaps, but, I am. I don't talk to strangers, I think it is in our nature to not stop to talk to someone in the middle of a field who looks like they could kill you with one slap. Did I mention he was a big guy? However, this morning I did stop. I talked to him. He talked to me. I learned a lot about his job, and why he was dressed so heavily so as to avoid getting the chemicals on his skin as he sprayed the weeds down in the empty field for the city. Then, I was on my way home.
The night before, one of my children had gone to the refrigerator to open a huge leftover bottle of water from our recent trip. It was unopened, and my child wanted to drink it instead of getting a regular cup. Something whispered, "No." So I told my little one that they could have a drink from a cup and to save the bottle of water in case we needed to go somewhere where we might need it. My child promptly understood and put the water back into the fridge. "That was random." I thought to myself that night, but as I continued to walk home the next morning, the big bottle of water was on my mind. I heard the still small voice whisper, "Take that bottle of water to this man in the field." That seemed like such a weird thing to do, and yet such a simple thing at the same time. So, I did. I went home, grabbed the bottle of water and ran it back over to him. As I walked back to where he was, tears stung at my eyes, I began thinking, "He is someone's father. He is someone's husband, he is someone's grandfather. What if he was your grandfather? Would you hope and pray that someone would be so kind to your grandfather even if he was hard at work at his job, if he was suffering, would you want someone to help him?" The answer, of course was a resounding, "Yes!"
Nervously, I approached the man, "I brought you some water." He was incredibly grateful. We talked for a few more moments and before I left to go back home to accomplish my work for the day, I patted him on the shoulder and introduced myself (couldn't shake his hand due to his contaminated gloves). "My name is {Faithful} Mormon Girl, it was so nice to meet you." To which he responded, "Same to you, my name is -insert my grandfather's name here-."
Coincidence? I think not. I miss my grandfather dearly, almost daily at times the pain of his not being here on earth is great. So, to have this man have the same name as my grandfather? Well, that my friends is a tender mercy. It is not coincidence in the slightest.
Our Father in Heaven knows us. He knows what we each are in need of, what we are seeking to get us through this life faithfully. He is trying to get us to open our eyes and find four ourselves our salvation, our pathway, our own firm hold on the iron rod, sometimes we just cloud over those whisperings and promptings with our own loud and heavy hearts.
Needless to say, service is now, once again at the forefront of my life. I will never forget the feelings of that bright morning, or the witness to me that through the service of others I was coming to know my Savior and my Heavenly Father in a renewed way.
May you also.
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