I have a confession to make, which may compromise my nerd cred. I don't particularly care for Legos and I never really have. I could cite several reasons that I never cared for them, but I'm going to focus on the one that's applicable to this article. I'm about setting and achieving goals, but Legos aren't about building according to the instructions. They're a creative exercise and that has never really appealed to me. So even as a kid, I was fairly incapable of just playing for the sake of play.
My name is Petey and I get stuff done.
In years past, the things I hoped to accomplish were simple tasks. I could think of a goal, plan to do it, and do it before losing interest. My attention span has grown a bit, but the length of time it takes to accomplish something worthwhile has grown much more.
What's more, many of the things I hope for now are at least partially out of my control. I can save up to buy a house, but I can't control when a house that I actually want to buy will be on the market. I can go on dates but my actions won't necessarily instill interest in me (although they could certainly dispel that interest). I can drive carefully but can't do much about the other drivers who don't. The list goes on and on.
Working towards goals that are outside of my control is nothing new to me; to some extent or another, the success of our endeavors always depends on circumstance. So I've contented myself with working as hard as I can to do what I can do to encourage circumstance to cooperate with me and simultaneously trusting God to provide whatever is necessary. I also choose to trust that when I don't get something I've tried to achieve that I'll be better off without it.
Usually, I can do both of these things at once. In fact, I've become dependent on my ability to work towards goals. Most of the divine intervention that I've seen as I've tried to achieve things has been subtle direction towards things I can try to get where I'm trying to go.
But I've had a very frustrating week. I was talking about it with a friend and realized that, for at least one of my goals, there may be nothing I can do at the moment. This is only a small step up from giving up, which is completely out of the question.
Please forgive me if I seem melodramatic. I'm currently trying to cope with the fact that my primary method of dealing with the world isn't effective.
Fortunately, the way ahead is clear. I just need more faith. The best summary I know is in the Doctrine and Covenants, which I accept as scripture: "let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed" (D&C 123:17).
For me, the current application seems clear. I have done, for the time being, all that I can do to achieve some of my goals. In these facets of my life, it is now time for me to stand still. Standing still doesn't mean that stop trying entirely; I still need to give God every chance to bless me that I can. But it does mean that I stop beating myself up about it. And it absolutely means that I need to trust Him. In the past, trusting Him has always meant that I did what I could and believed that He would bless me. But now, I need to trust Him without some of that effort. And with that effort, I must also sacrifice the illusion of control. I have to square with the fact that it is not my efforts or abilities or determination that will provide the outcomes I seek but that, to the extent that I get what I want, it is due to His goodness.
This is going to be a big transition.
