Letter
From The Highlands November, 2003
By Anne Perry
I had a marvellous trip away, and met some people I hope to and intend to go on knowing for a long time, people of warmth, honesty and remarkable insight into the issues that concern human beings most deeply. It is one of life’s great joys to meet people for the first time, fall into conversation, and find sensitivity and intelligence that enrich you from the opening minute. Only one of those people was L.D.S., but they all had a profound spirituality in the love of others, the hunger for meaning and for that which is good.
Perhaps in the Resurrection that is part of how it will be, meeting people who lived in other times and places, and feeling that instant kinship, because all human beings hunger for the same things, love and honour, beauty, purpose, the desire to create and to reach out to others, to discover and to learn. The great thing is that we can at least begin it here, if we will discard our prejudices that strangers who are different must somehow be wrong, or will hurt us. Life will hurt us, if we participate – and if we don’t then we will have slipped back into that thought and feeling which kept a third of the hosts of heaven from coming to earth in human form in the first place.
We must taste the bitter and the sweet! That is not a suggestion that we deliberately seek pain, or to do things which are wrong. We will have more than enough of them by accident. We will make mistakes we did not foresee, and sometimes we will suffer because of the mistakes of others. The only way to avoid pain is not to feel anything. The only way never to do anything wrong is never to do anything at all. That is back to where we began – the denial of life, of opportunity, of the whole purpose of our existence.
But boy - it takes courage! The pain is real, the loss is real, and the failure is real! If we dare to want more than the minimum, the easy things, if we reach for the stars, it’s going to be a hard steep climb, and we are going to risk falling a long way.
If we stick our heads up over the parapet to fight for what we believe is good, true, worth the battle and the injuries, then we are going to get shot at. And never imagine that the Adversary has no aim! Sometimes we think the bullet went wide, only to realize later that it hit a different mark. Not all wounds hurt immediately! Some things look like a blessing at first, and only later do we realize they were not.
A cocoon which shelters when young, allowing growth in safety, when we are ready to emerge and fly, would be a prison were it not to crack open and release us. Do we on occasion stay in the cocoon too long? In thinking of the cocoon of the known, the path of familiarity, little risk, we may be going for the small prizes because they carry less cost. We speak very often of ‘serving in a small way’ – ‘a humble task’ – ‘fulfilling the daily routine’. That’s fine, for a while. But great leaders do not spend their whole lives ‘in a small way’! The big, brave things need to be done as well!
Sins of Omission
I have heard the warning that when we come to the end of our lives, our greatest regrets are not going to be for the things we did, and should not have, so much as the things we could have done, and did not! The chances for great acts of adventure of the mind or heart, the changes we could have brought about, the influence we could have been, the ill we might have healed – only we were afraid to. It might have hurt, we might have failed, we might have looked foolish, or lost someone’s love. They might have laughed at us, or been envious and stopped liking us. And so the chance slipped by, and was lost – possibly for ever!
My father used to tell me ‘never be afraid of missing the mark, only of aiming too low’. I must have that written across my heart. I miss the mark quite often, but I’ve always aimed as high as I could see – or higher.
My mother used to sing to me the lullaby with the words, ‘Do you want the moon to play with, and the stars to run away with?’. She said knowing me from then on – my reply was roughly ‘They’ll do to start with’.
I was a little down the other day because some people had said publicly some extremely hurtful things, tearing open old wounds. A good friend reminded me that if we are doing, or trying to do anything that is good, then the Adversary will not be pleased, nor will he be idle. It brought to mind a blessing I had several years ago, telling me that the Adversary knows my name. That is a very terrifying thought! Knows ME – personally!
And yet if he did not – then probably God would have no reason to know it either. I’m afraid they go hand in hand, for all of us. You cannot be a friend to one without being an enemy to the other. Is that not a very sobering realization? But I think it has to be true.
Remembrance Day
Which brings me to the heart of November, for me, and perhaps for a great deal of the rest of the world – Remembrance Day. On November 11th we honour those who gave their lives, their health, perhaps their sight, limbs, the friends or family they loved, to fight in wars that seemed necessary and just at the time. I phrase it like that to include ALL people involved, on whatever side. I feel no exceptions. They offered all they had, and too often gave it, so that we might have the freedom we sometimes take so much for granted. And ingratitude is a sin the Lord has said He cannot overlook. An ungrateful heart is one that has closed its own doors against God, and can there be a greater tragedy than that?
I am sitting on my bed, with a dog curled up beside me. The room is brilliant with sunshine. Yet again, there is not a cloud in the sky! The fields are fading from gold to bronze, the sea is blue, the mountains beyond are a haze of darker blue and purple, the air is crisp, but still far too warm for a frost. And this is the far north of Scotland in mid-November! We have had most of the year like this. Two days of mist or slight rain so far this month! We are on drought warning! Scotland! Actually that is south of here. We have enough ground water not to worry. But month after month of sunshine. There is something very odd happening this year. We have had summer since February.
There are still lots of colour in the garden. The lawn is green, but then it always is – that never changes mid-winter or mid-summer. There are roses of all colours still out, purple Michaelmas daisies, pansies, and a lot of red flowers I don’t know the name of – and I bought them. But I don’t remember. As usual, there’s no wind – just silence and brilliance, and shining peace visually.
I must not be lulled into imagining that the spiritual war is over. On Remembrance Sunday our primary gave a superb presentation. They spoke of so many aspects of war and struggle, from the Great War in Heaven, in which we all took part, through some of the wars on earth, particularly in the Book of Mormon, and the flag of liberty, the call to fight for our freedom to be who we wish – and the cost of it. It was given in gravity, sincerity and with a call to gratitude, honour, and to be prepared to do whatever our part might be to preserve and enlarge what we have.
I was privileged to speak after them. They said so much of what I was going to say that I had to think quickly to rearrange my talk, concentrate instead on the courage needed to defend others, in spite of our own losses. All of us would rush in to defend those we love, child or parent, sibling or friend, probably without even considering if we ourselves would be hurt. Certainly we would not even think of inconvenience or embarrassment. What about a neighbour’s child, a friend?
Then what about a stranger? What about ideals we believe in? Freedom of speech? Most particularly the freedom to differ, without fear of being silenced, or ostracized, or losing job or preferment, or other opportunities given to those we agree with, and who agree with us? To be of any value, it has to be extended to EVERYONE! The freedom to conform is nothing. It is the freedom not to conform that counts.
How about the battle against pollution of the atmosphere, the earth, the water? Is that not worth fighting to prevent? We are stewards of the earth, not owners of it. It was lent to us, to see how we would care for it. When the time comes that we have to account for our stewardship, will we fare well enough to be given new worlds to govern?
On the face of it at the moment, it does not look good. Do we preserve its beauty, its resources, keep its habitats, treat its creatures with respect? Would the God who made it all, and all the things in it, be happy to give a new world into our hands? I have great reservations about that.
But is it worth fighting for? There are thousands of men and women, tens of thousands, who are doing all they can. Were it not for them we might have even less of it left.
Drawing the Line
Where do we draw the line and say ‘Here I stand and will defend what I believe in, at whatever cost it may be’. If there is nothing for which we will fight, nothing and nobody that means more to us than our own safety and convenience that is a very terrible thing. Please heaven there are none of us who would say ’I always come first’.
The question is to decide before it happens where you will stand to fight, and what weapon you are prepared to use. It is quite a good thing to know. It is one measure of who you are.
It has been a very good month to be back at home. There have been some excellent talks in church, some good lessons. I shall be sorry to leave the New Testament. It is my favourite scripture, by a short measure, simply because it contains the stories of Christ’s ministry here on earth, and more of his words than any other. I love the Old Testament also, but it has not that same element. It too has many wonderful women, some whose names we do not know, but whose faith towers over the toils and troubles of daily life. There is the woman who shared her last morsel with Elijah, the woman who gave a roof and food to Elisha, there are Rachael, Esther, Deborah, Hannah, to name a very few.
And in the New Testament there are also those whose names we do not know. One of my favourites has always been the woman who was healed of the issue of blood, simply by touching the hem of Christ’s robes. “Woman, thy faith hath made thee whole.”
Would that that could be said of all of us. Perhaps one day it can! But the fruit of faith is works – love, labour, hope, gratitude and endurance to the end, to get up every time we fall, to hope in the darkness, to be grateful for another chance, above all to forgive, and to accept that we can be forgiven. If God will forgive, who on earth (or perhaps in hell) are any of us to say – ‘but I can’t or won’t’!
Doubt not, but be believing. If only I could do that. But I can keep trying.
We all can and we will.
