As I am frantically cleaning and decluttering my house today, I came across a Seagull Book ad. I can't throw ads away without quickly glancing through them so I opened it and in my hurry decided I wasn't going to read the opening words from the Vice-President and General Manager, Susan Condie. But I decided I deserved a quick little break and decided to sit down and read it. And I'm glad I did. I enjoyed it and thought I'd share:
"Dear Friends,
For nearly a decade I have been among the ranks of I-15 commuters. Each night after work, I usually find myself stopped by the red light of a busy intersection--one right turn and one left turn away from home. At least one or two nights a week--almost like clockwork--the driver waiting behind me will impatiently blast the horn, "encouraging" me to make the right turn. Each time this happens, I experience a certain amount of frustration; some nights I have my feelings hurt, and other nights--depending on my day-- I am just plain annoyed.
The other night as I sat waiting to turn right, a particularly angry driver waited behind me honking, yelling, and waving. As I looked in my rear-view mirror, I thought to myself, does he really think I wouldn't turn if I could? Then it suddenly occurred to me that none of the cars waiting behind me have ever known that as soon as I turn right, I have to quickly cross three lanes of oncoming traffic to turn left into my subdivision.
A smile crossed my face as I mused about the possibility of pushing a button to illuminate blinking lights around a sign in my back window: "I'm sorry. I'd really like to make this right turn. However, I am trying to make it to that subdivision across all three lanes of traffic." Almost as quickly as this thought came, another more sobering thought entered my mind. What if we all had a sign hanging around our necks explaining to those around us just what our particular circumstance was at the moment? "I'm not feeling well today." "I'm struggling with depression." "I'm worrying about a wayward child." "I was up all night with a crying baby." "I had my first chemotherapy treatment today." "I just lost my job." "I'm caring for an aging parent." "I'm feeling discouraged." "I'm lonely." The list could go on and on.
With this thought in mind, I began to think about how differently I might treat others if I could read their "sign." Sadly, I thought of times when I may have judged others unfairly or perhaps had not been entirely sensitive to another's needs or circumstances. I thought of the Savior--who knows the very depth of our pain and the eventual outcome for each of us as we endure our own "refiner's fire." I thought of a quote from Elder Russell M. Nelson that hangs on the wall of my office: "With celestial sight, trials impossible to change become possible to endure."
That night as I wrote in my journal, I commited earnestly to endeavor to treat others as the Savior would. To really try to see the "sign" another may be wearing. To remember daily the tender mercies so generously bestowed upon me. To live having perfect hope in the Savior Jesus Christ--knowing it is only He who knows our hearts and our trials from begining to end."
"Dear Friends,
For nearly a decade I have been among the ranks of I-15 commuters. Each night after work, I usually find myself stopped by the red light of a busy intersection--one right turn and one left turn away from home. At least one or two nights a week--almost like clockwork--the driver waiting behind me will impatiently blast the horn, "encouraging" me to make the right turn. Each time this happens, I experience a certain amount of frustration; some nights I have my feelings hurt, and other nights--depending on my day-- I am just plain annoyed.
The other night as I sat waiting to turn right, a particularly angry driver waited behind me honking, yelling, and waving. As I looked in my rear-view mirror, I thought to myself, does he really think I wouldn't turn if I could? Then it suddenly occurred to me that none of the cars waiting behind me have ever known that as soon as I turn right, I have to quickly cross three lanes of oncoming traffic to turn left into my subdivision.
A smile crossed my face as I mused about the possibility of pushing a button to illuminate blinking lights around a sign in my back window: "I'm sorry. I'd really like to make this right turn. However, I am trying to make it to that subdivision across all three lanes of traffic." Almost as quickly as this thought came, another more sobering thought entered my mind. What if we all had a sign hanging around our necks explaining to those around us just what our particular circumstance was at the moment? "I'm not feeling well today." "I'm struggling with depression." "I'm worrying about a wayward child." "I was up all night with a crying baby." "I had my first chemotherapy treatment today." "I just lost my job." "I'm caring for an aging parent." "I'm feeling discouraged." "I'm lonely." The list could go on and on.
With this thought in mind, I began to think about how differently I might treat others if I could read their "sign." Sadly, I thought of times when I may have judged others unfairly or perhaps had not been entirely sensitive to another's needs or circumstances. I thought of the Savior--who knows the very depth of our pain and the eventual outcome for each of us as we endure our own "refiner's fire." I thought of a quote from Elder Russell M. Nelson that hangs on the wall of my office: "With celestial sight, trials impossible to change become possible to endure."
That night as I wrote in my journal, I commited earnestly to endeavor to treat others as the Savior would. To really try to see the "sign" another may be wearing. To remember daily the tender mercies so generously bestowed upon me. To live having perfect hope in the Savior Jesus Christ--knowing it is only He who knows our hearts and our trials from begining to end."
3 comments:
Thanks for that story! :) If we could all just take this to heart it would be a better place for all! Love ya
Thanks for posting that! I loved reading it. We never know what someone is going through, its always easy to judge. Thanks for the reminder!
Very inspirational. I don't come to your blog very often but everytime I do - I'm always glad I did. Thanks Love Cori's sister.
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