I am absolutely, overwhelmingly enchanted and in love with ‘the world’. You know that ‘world’ that gets labeled in every Sunday School, seminary, and primary class as being the enemy? Yeah. That one. Can’t keep my hands off of it.
I don’t fear it. I don’t condemn it as inherently evil knowing that it is in my interaction and reaction to it that I learn and grow. I don’t feel a need to hide from it because every experience I’ve had has made me into who I am. And darn it if quite a number of my rough edges haven’t been rubbed off in the process. Am I broken because of some of my experiences? Yes. But isn’t the light reflecting from my broken shards colorful?
I guess I approach the world in a similar way as I approach modesty: I don’t concentrate on what NOT to wear or do, I spend my energy thinking about the amazing combinations of things TO WEAR and do that fuels creativity, displays personality, exposes me to more experiences AND learning AND progress. And if my Mormon doctrine is correct, isn’t that kind of, well, the point?
It probably seems naïve. As if thinking positively about ‘the world’ will keep my kids from being exposed to porn, from becoming addicted to harmful substances, or protect them from getting the next-door neighbor’s daughter pregnant. But I don’t and can’t think in terms of protect. I must think in terms of growth. Because I value my sanity.
You see, fear has ruled me in a very real way. It ruled me when, as a teenager, I wiped the bathroom counters three times before I could sleep at night, or counted to 10 before I could enter a room, or picked up any and every piece of trash off the path upon which I walked (I was TIRED. There was A LOT of trash). These rituals ‘protected’ me (in my raddled mind) from evil. Or hardship. Or, gasp, mistake. Fear also ruled me as a young mother when perfection seemed my siren call and failure was both inevitable and unbearable. Sadly, it still rules me in many ways; I feel it when I awake, it sits by me while I read and cook and interact with others. It puts me to bed at night and infuses my dreams. My brain likes fear. A lot.
But God? God doesn’t like fear. In 2 Timothy1:6-7, it says, ““For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”
Thanks, God. I needed to hear that (especially the sound mind part). And this world that you created? I’m probably not the first to say it, but, well, brilliant.
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