Three Rubber Rings

A baby sat, almost laying, on his mothers lap in the bench across me in church today. He was playing with three rubber rings that simply fascinated him. He couldn't have been more than 3 months old, but as I watched him, I could see the wheels in his tiny, perfect head reeling with the knowledge he was obtaining in the experiment he was practicing. Every time he had the three rings placed in front of him he would sweep them off the bench onto the floor; sometime individually and other time all three at the same time. And without fail, and with no aggravation of patience, the mother would bend down and pick them up, returning them to the playing field.  This boy was learning what he was capable of doing with his two, tiny hands that could barely open all the way. He didn't know that it was something of a task for his mother every other minute to re-situate and pick them up just so he could knock them to the floor again. He did, however, rely on that so he could continue his journey of experimentation. 

What a small and beautiful lesson this was for me. 

We are cradled in the arms of our every loving, ever patient Father in Heaven who without hesitating continually pics up after us as we day in and day out flub up. He takes the chance we threw away and places it back in front of us so that we may have another try, deciding for ourselves what the best thing to do with the opportunity would be. Without this action, which we so often fail to recognize and give thanks for, we would never be able to learn what we are capable of and what we really should and shouldn't to. What if after two or three times of picking up those little rings the mother became flustered and decided to simply take them away? The child would not only feel he did something wrong but never know what his two little hands were cable of doing. 

I'm grateful for this mother's example of patience and diligence. Such love and devotion for service in the same from our Father in Heaven. 

S-T-O-P

It's not uncommon in life for time to overtake your sense of reality. It sweeps over you like a crisp, autumn morning while you sit unprepared without a sweater. Couldn't there be a simple tick tock of a booming grandfather clock to wake you from your trace and make you aware of the time you're wasting? It seems that thought the world continues to spin the clocks all continue to tick, I somehow find myself stopped.  

It's funny when you think of a stop sign; bold and red, standing out against the stark black pavement as you drive from here to there. They pop up every 2 minutes, sometimes more, as we journey from location to location. But to stop means to come to an end; ceasing  to happen. If this is true, how is it that our journey always continues? 

Think about it. Are you someone who slowly decelerates hundreds of feet before actually reaching the bright red alert then, without fully jolting the car into a complete stop, roll through the intersection? Do you continue accelerating until moments before it seems you'll cross the line then slam on the brakes, risking whiplash to any passengers who's company you pleasantly entertain? Do you notice the sign but simply stare ahead, surveying the scene, glancing in your rearview to ease the panic of any flashing lights, and if you sense no danger manage to glide easily past the four bold letters S-T-O-P without giving it another thought? 

Or do you somehow manage to miss the sign altogether? Oblivious to any goings on around you. "Where exactly was I going again?" you quietly mumble to yourself as you manage to remember that you are behind the wheel of a 3,000 pound moving machine. It is the law to know the law and all the rules of the road; to have no mental or physical ailments when climbing into your choice of how to get from point A to point B.  So how in the world am I still alive? This is how I've been feeling recently. This is why I've stopped. If ever there was a time to notice my ailments, it's now. But there's so many questions I feel are unanswered and I don't feel safe behind the wheel of my life. 

How is it that in life, with more laws than the road has and heavier hearts than any 3,000+ pound machine, that there is no Set rule book? No test that someone gives to tell you if you are ready to take on the challenges and conditions of the road in life? Why aren't the warning signs bigger? And why don't we instantly obey even the smallest precautions given to us so that we could have the chance of lowering our risk to next to nothing?

These thoughts have fluttered through my head so many times. The above are all valid questions. However, with some reflection I've come to realize, most of them have already been answered time and time again. We do have a rule book. It's called the book of mormon and other sources of gospel insight. We also have sources that are constantly updating the rule book so we are never presented with new obstacles that have no kind of consequence or solution. They're called latter day prophets. We did take a test. Before we ever turned the corner and saw the road that lay ahead, in Heaven, we were told exactly what this life would entail and because you and I are here reading this now, we passed the greatest test. A test that required strength and patience; even tears. Warning signs are everywhere. They always have been and always will be. Every time we listen to the words of the gospel or search for a new piece of knowledge, we learn of a new warning or rule that will help us be safer on this journey. 

So I suppose life can be like driving on the real roads out there in numerous circumstances and conditions. For some it was easy to learn how to take the wheel and navigate from one place to another. For others even gripping the steering wheel is a tough thing to do. Different  roads have different rules; different lives have different paths. 

Learn to drive. Follow the rules. Believe you can. Take to the road.