A Moment of Clarity

As I mentioned earlier, today's been a rough day. Pain, stress at work, and stupid little accidents. I came home and stuffed my face, like that's really going to help. All it did is give me a stomach ache, use the rest of my weekly points allowance, and make me a little apprehensive about Saturday's weigh-in. I then took some medicine for my headache. Two hours later, I took some more. I'm finally starting to feel sleepy now, which is a good thing. But in between the time it took for the medicine to kick in, I had a moment of clarity after a bout of sobbing.

Okay. Here's the thing. When I went to work for CPS, I did it because I wanted to help people. It hit me this evening that I don't know if I really did help anyone at all. (Hence the sobbing.) On one hand I think that taking that job was the number one worst mistake I've ever made in my life. But on the other hand, I felt so clear, so positive that it was what I needed to do at that time in my life. I met some amazing people, people that I just loved and would have done anything possible for, and people that could not see beyond their own immediate needs to take care of their families.

As I was thinking of that tonight, and thinking how much I loved the people I served, how much I wanted to help them reach for something better, I began thinking about the Savior. I know how much he loves me, and started wondering how many times he feels as sorrowful over my choices as I did over the choices of the families I worked with. How many times has he grieved as I stubbornly clung to my own immediate needs to the detriment of my true needs?

This isn't a new thought. I beat myself up pretty frequently over my bad choices. And I know that beating myself up isn't helpful, but I do it anyway. It's just that the thought hit me with such a peculiar clarity tonight that it brought an immediate sense of peace. I thought of a verse in Isaiah, where the Lord invites me to "reason together" with him. Sometimes my faith wavers just a bit, not in God or in Jesus Christ, but in myself. Sometimes I wonder if this is the right church. Sometimes I wonder if any of this even matters, if there is any point in the suffering I've experienced. But in those moments like that I had tonight, I know that it does matter. There is a point. I matter.

Today at work I tuned into the BYU radio station, playing the instrumental stream. I can't say that it brought a lot of peace in my hectic day, but I did notice and appreciate it. And it must have sunk in, because as I thought about things tonight I began to hear the words of those hymns. "Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace, when other sources cease to make me whole?" I wanted to go play the piano, something I haven't done in quite some time, but Joe has blocked the path to my piano with all his musical equipment.

I think I want to move the piano back into the living room. And I am glad to know that life matters, and that even though I make a dreadful muddle of things so much of the time, I can go to the Lord and he and I can reason together.

I'm not saying this anything like as clearly as I can understand it, but I just don't know how to say it any better. While I was at CPS, I felt the strongest sense of purpose. When I got up in the morning, I felt like it was going to make a difference in someone's life. That's a big difference from now, when all I do is go pull credit bureau reports and prepare spreadsheets for a few hours, and then spend the rest of the day writing or reading or doing whatever I can to amuse myself. It makes me wonder if there is still a purpose in my life, because nothing I do at work is even remotely earth-shattering in importance. But I work hard, and I do the work of two people in less than half the time of one person, so I feel that I earn the money I make. And I try to be a good person. And I matter, and there is a purpose to my life, even if I don't know what it is. That's a good thing to know.