A Prayer of Faith

Having grown up without the Church, or anything like it in my life, I place a great deal of value, and even a slight twinge of envy or two, on the programs for the children and youth. I recently discovered, though, that my daughter did not share in my appreciation. It came to my attention that she had been having some problems behaving in Primary—for some time, in fact. She, apparently, had often been disruptive in class, trying to distract the other girls by joking around or flipping the lights on and off. She’d even been difficult in Sharing Time, refusing to sing songs and even insisting on sitting on the floor.

I must confess that I was somewhat appalled at the news, and I have never been a mother to remain silent in the face of what I consider unacceptable behavior. So, one afternoon, I sat my daughter down on the couch for a quick discussion of the situation. I proceeded to lay out her offenses and my opinions of them. Needless to say, our ‘discussion’ fairly quickly devolved into a minor tirade on my part. In just a few moments, I found my stride, and my poor daughter found herself a captive audience for one of mamma’s ‘sermons.’ More and more words, condemning and commanding, came pouring out of my mouth.

We were working our way tediously through a fairly extensive catalogue of each and every thing she had done wrong lately, at home and at Primary. The more I talked, though, the less I felt like I was getting through to her. I wanted to make her see why her behavior was wrong. The longer I talked about it, though, the more abstract it seemed.

Even as my mouth continued along my spontaneous script, my heart offered the barest whisper of a prayer: “Help me get through to her….” A moment or two later, I realized that my tirade, unbeknownst to me, had given way to the sweetest, most desperate pleading. Instead of condemning her further, I heard myself begging her to understand just how much both I and her Heavenly Father love her, and how she is always uniquely special to each of us, even when she is in a room full of children. My mind was still spinning angry words, and yet my lips continued to offer up kindness and love, and the guidance of doctrine.

Truly, I did not feel as if they were my own words that I was speaking. As they came, I was hearing them as freshly as my daughter was. There was such profound kindness, understanding, and even wisdom in them. I am still humbled by the memory.

When I relayed this experience to a friend, she sent me this:

“True doctrine, understood, changes attitudes and behavior.

“The study of the doctrines of the gospel will improve behavior quicker than a study of behavior will improve behavior. Preoccupation with unworthy behavior can lead to unworthy behavior. That is why we stress so forcefully the study of the doctrines of the gospel”
(Boyd K. Packer, “Little Children,” Ensign, Nov. 1986, 16).

I do not remember all, or even much, of what I said, but I do know that the words centered around my daughter’s present and eternal value, and not about what she’d done wrong in Primary. I do clearly remember the overwhelming sense of peace that accompanied them. She felt it, too, and it ushered the words into her very heart. She has changed her attitude about Primary, and so much more.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 21st, 2006 at 5:33 am and is filed under True and Living. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.