Reclaimed

 

The other night I was awakened by an awful feeling of sadness at an opportunity that I had missed through my own mistakes.  My soul ached as I opened my Book of Mormon to 4 Nephi 1:9 and read the words ``there were many cities which had been sunk…and these cities could not be renewed.”  The Lord seemed to be telling me that the opportunity was gone.  “No, please give me another chance.”  But I felt that it was now too late.  I prayed to the Lord with a spirit of sadness.  “What can I do now?”  And the words seemed to come: “Forgive yourself.”

I have yelled at my children.  Made cutting remarks to loved ones.  I have offended family members who have still not forgiven me (almost twenty years later).  I have lost money.  I have broken things.  I have gotten in car accidents.  But I think that the mistakes that hurt the most are the ones where I disappointed God.  Where he was counting on me to do something or to not do something and I let him down.  Those ones really hurt.  Because you never know what might have been.  And imagining what might have been and berating yourself over missed opportunities can be the worst torment ever.

But as I was in the middle of this prayer for some reason my mind became riveted on Jesus Christ.  And I realized that no matter how low I sunk, no matter how badly I did, I could try again and I could do better.  Because of the price He paid for me I could forgive myself.  I felt sudden and immense gratitude to my Savior Jesus Christ for second chances.  Not the same chances but second chances to have a good life, to be an instrument for him, to build something beautiful.

I am thinking of Hunter*, a man I knew when I was growing up in Portland, Oregon. Hunter had played football for the University of Utah and became an alcoholic. He eventually rode with a Harley gang and abused various substances. He was on a path to destroying his life. Somehow, he experienced a change of heart and decided that he no longer wanted to continue his self-destructive behavior. He joined Alcoholics Anonymous and began the process of change. When I knew him he was still a pretty tough Harley rider with a big beard but a very kind heart. A number of years ago I returned to the place where I grew up. A red-haired man, sharp looking with a youthful, kind face came up to me and started to talk to me as if we had known each other a long time. He was in the bishopric of my old ward. I didn't know who he was. As he walked away from me I suddenly realized that this was my old acquaintance, Hunter. He was a completely changed person. So changed that I no longer recognized him.

I love this quote by Jeffrey R. Holland:  “However late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”

So, start over.  Try again.  Your story can still have a happy ending.  Forgive yourself.

* Name has been changed