The Restoration of Blessings
One Man’s Trash…
I clearly remember losing my blessings. At the time, it wasn’t a big deal because I didn’t value them.
My bishop and I stood on his doorstep as he enumerated the blessings I would lose if I proceeded with the formal resignation from my church.
- Church membership
- The gift of the Holy Ghost
- Priesthood
- Temple ordinances
“OK,” I said simply.
Years of unresolved doubts, unanswered prayers, binary thinking, and time away from church had gradually caused me to despise things I once loved.
… Another Man’s Treasure
493 days ago, I was re-baptized into my church, reclaiming some of what I voluntarily surrendered 2,378 days ago. Today, on my 46th birthday, I will receive an ordinance called the “restoration of blessings”.
I’m thinking about things that I once tossed aside, but now value.
Restorations and Blessings
Sometimes it seems like a good idea to throw things out. Old stuff. Stuff that no longer appears useful. Damaged stuff. Out-of-style stuff.
For years, a friend of mine has gone to DI (thrift store) on Friday nights. Someone’s trash becomes her treasure. My sister used to have a keychain with tire skid marks that said, “I brake for garage sales.” Same thing.
A little sanding. Washing. A new chain and bike tube. Some batteries. Restoration.
That old rusty priesthood. Sexism, racism, cronyism, hypocrisy. God’s unchanging words that change every generation. If they’ll tow it away for free, they can have it for the scrap metal.
Today, I look at the priesthood closely. The magnifying glass highlights the flaws. But this time, I have another lens. Love.
It’s not a new car. It’s from a salvage yard. Priesthood cars always are. We always are. A restoration project that is ongoing. Fixing things that have been damaged and neglected. Seeing potential.
That old dog, the temple. It was left for dead. It looked so sick to me then. Swollen scars of unanswered questions, malnutritioned by masonic ties, and infested with imagery I never felt allowed to understand until I left the church. It even bit me as I sat in lobbies during sealings.
I’ve been treating it differently lately. With care and gentleness. With respect. Another restoration. It breathes softly by my side and I feel its healthy warmth.
There is something exciting about a restoration, any restoration. Whether it’s fixing a car, healing an abused dog, or a helping someone sense their innate value, these are all restorations that bless. Restorations of blessings.
I think of the many people and things I’ve overlooked and undervalued at different times. Mentally digging for treasures that never appear.
At times, I’ve not seen the value of my wife or my kids, absorbed in an esoteric chase for fulfillment that was always around me.
It’s easy to not even notice the need for a restoration, like I do with the weeds behind my garage.
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. — Isaiah 53:2 NIV
When I returned to the church, I was surprised at the phrase, “the ongoing restoration”. “What about the past-tense Restoration?,” my binary little brain thought. Until I realized that I could just accept it and run with it! God bless ongoing restorations for ongoing people that will always need to learn ongoing lessons.
I think I’ll start with a 71 Chevelle Malibu. My brain still has a lot of rust and my heart will need some new upholstery and some subwoofers. But I see where this project is going and it’s worth the effort!
Thanks TS, NG, and LP for your help to this point.
