"At this table, everyone belongs."

  

At this table, everyone belongs. 
And there is always room for one more.

Dear Reader,

Many of us make judgments based upon our experiences and our unexamined thinking. From politics to the foods we eat, the natural man has likes and dislikes. I am no exception.

These preferences are not necessarily evil. Whether one enjoys coffee with cream and sugar or black is simply a matter of taste and, for the most part, has little effect upon the lives of those around us. Yet if we begin to determine another person's worth—or where they are welcome to sit in the restaurant—based upon how they drink their coffee, then I believe a line has been crossed.

This may seem like an obvious error in judgment, yet when the same logic is applied to nationality, skin color, lifestyle, religion, or even the alcoholic, we quickly discover how easily prejudice finds a home within the human heart. We would do well to remember that those who label others will, in time, find themselves labeled as well.

In his work Meditations, Marcus Aurelius wisely observed, "Whenever you are offended at someone's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings." His counsel invites us to pause and examine our feelings toward another, ensuring that our thoughts and actions reflect a higher order of living and community.

Mosiah 3:19 provides similar guidance, inviting us to "put off the natural man." Likewise, Paul taught, "Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2). Both passages remind us that spiritual growth is not merely learning new truths—it is allowing old assumptions to be replaced by greater light and understanding.

We are also reminded by the Declaration of Independence that "all men are created equal" and are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, among them "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." Though imperfectly lived throughout history, these words continue to call us toward a more excellent way.

What began as a reflection on Henry David Thoreau's statement, "It is never too late to give up our prejudices," has become an invitation to consider one of the great themes found throughout scripture, philosophy, and spiritual literature: the transformation of the human heart.

It is a call to humility—the willingness to admit that we may have been wrong and, with God's help, become something better.

Perhaps the measure of our spiritual growth is not how long we have held our beliefs, but whether we are still willing to let God change them.

With that thought, may we remember that it is never too late to soften our hearts, widen our circle of compassion, and see one another as members of the same divine family.

Thanks for reading

🙏🏻🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️ 

The Healing Power of Forgiveness

 

 

Dear Reader,

Last Sunday, a member of my church entrusted me with a copy of her notes from a talk on forgiveness. As I read her words, I found myself reflecting upon a simple question:

What is forgiveness?

At first, the answer seemed obvious. We have all heard the words, "I forgive you," or perhaps have sought forgiveness ourselves. Yet, as I sat quietly with the thought, I began to realize that forgiveness is one of the greatest gifts our Heavenly Father has given His children.

Forgiveness has the power to heal broken hearts, mend relationships, and lift burdens that have been carried far too long. It is not simply an act of kindness; it is a divine principle central to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

The Guide to the Scriptures teaches that when God forgives us, He cancels or sets aside the punishment for our sins. Likewise, when we forgive others, we seek to treat them with Christlike love and release the feelings that have held us captive.

In many ways, forgiveness is less about changing another person and more about allowing God to change us.

The Savior taught:

"If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him."

—Luke 17:3

And when Peter asked how often he should forgive, the Lord replied:

"Until seventy times seven."

—Matthew 18:22

These scriptures remind me that forgiveness is not a single event. Rather, it is often a process—sometimes a lifelong one.

In my experience, asking for forgiveness requires humility. It requires us to acknowledge our mistakes and to seek to repair the hurt we may have caused. There is something deeply vulnerable about saying, "I was wrong. Will you forgive me?"

Likewise, extending forgiveness to another can be equally difficult.

There are wounds in this life that run deep. Some injuries are the result of misunderstandings, while others leave scars that remain with us for years. There are times when speaking face-to-face with those who have hurt us may not be possible or even wise. Yet, even then, we can place our pain into the hands of our Savior.

One of the most beautiful truths of the restored Gospel is the understanding of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

Through His suffering in Gethsemane and upon the cross, He not only took upon Himself our sins, but also our grief, our sorrows, our disappointments, and our heartache. He understands perfectly what it means to be wounded, betrayed, and misunderstood.

Isaiah wrote:

"Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows..."

—Isaiah 53:4

Because of Him, we do not carry our burdens alone.

I have also come to believe that one of the hardest people to forgive is ourselves.

We remember our failures. We replay our mistakes. We wonder if we have done enough to merit forgiveness. Yet, the message of the Gospel is one of hope. Our Heavenly Father does not ask for perfection today. He asks for sincere repentance and a willing heart.

As children of God, we are all works in progress.

President Russell M. Nelson once taught that the Lord loves effort because effort brings rewards that cannot come without it. Each time we repent, each time we forgive, and each time we choose to begin again, we take another step along the covenant path.

Perhaps that is one of the greatest blessings of forgiveness: it allows us to move forward.

We no longer need to be prisoners of yesterday. Through the grace of Jesus Christ, we can become clean, hopeful, and renewed. We can see ourselves and others not as we once were, but as our Heavenly Father sees us—His beloved children.

Today, if there is someone you need to forgive, I invite you to pray for the strength to do so.

If there is someone from whom you need to seek forgiveness, may you find the courage to take that first step.

And if the person you struggle to forgive is the one staring back at you in the mirror, may you remember that the Savior's invitation extends to you as well.

His healing is real.

His mercy is sufficient.

And His forgiveness has the power to make all things new.

With love and gratitude,

  🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️  

 

The Measure of a Life

Dear Reader,

This morning I came across two quotations. One from an 11th-century philosopher and another from a 17th-century thinker. Together they left me with a simple question:

What is wisdom?

I have never considered myself a particularly wise man. I have spent much of my life making mistakes, beginning again, and learning that the lessons I most needed were often the ones I least wanted to hear.

Yet perhaps wisdom was never intended to be measured by the amount of knowledge we possess, but by the manner in which we live.

Solomon ibn Gabirol wrote:

"In seeking wisdom, the first step is silence, the second listening, the third remembering, the fourth practicing, the fifth teaching others."

Those five steps seem simple enough, yet I wonder how often I rush past the first one.

Silence.

In recovery, we learn to sit quietly. In prayer, we learn to listen. In gratitude, we learn to remember. In service, we learn to practice what has been given to us. And if we are fortunate, we may one day teach another soul—not as experts, but as fellow travelers.

John Locke wrote:

"Our business here is not to know all things, but those which concern our conduct."

As I reflected upon these two quotations, another thought came to mind:

"Sit quietly. Listen carefully. Remember gratefully. Practice faithfully. Teach humbly. For in the end, we are not judged by all we have known, but by how well we have lived."

I later discovered those words were my own, written in an email and long forgotten.

Perhaps that should not surprise me.

After all, our lives are often a collection of borrowed wisdom, hard-earned experience, and moments of grace that somehow find their way onto paper.

For me, this simple reflection has become a six-step reminder for living:

• Sit quietly.
• Listen carefully.
• Remember gratefully.
• Practice faithfully.
• Teach humbly.
• Live well.

Perhaps that is the true measure of a life.

Not how much we knew.

Not how many books we read.

Not how many opinions we held.

But whether we became more patient, more compassionate, more forgiving, and more willing to love.

James reminds us to be "doers of the word, and not hearers only." Matthew teaches that we are judged by how we treat "the least of these." The Book of Mormon repeatedly invites us to become disciples of Christ through our actions rather than our intentions.

Wisdom, then, is not merely knowledge.

It is transformed living.

I am still learning.

Perhaps we all are.

Wise people rarely announce that they are wise. They simply keep showing up, one day at a time, continuing to learn until the end.

Until next time,

🙏🏻🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️

Life on Life's Terms

Dear Reader,

This has been a day of gathering, listening, and learning.

Today, I made three telephone calls.

One was to a woman in need of recovery.

The second was to friends celebrating their wedding anniversary.

The third was to a member of my family.

Each represented a capsule of my life.

To the woman in need of recovery, I became a listener, a consoler, and a fellow traveler on the road to healing.

To my friends celebrating, I was able to listen and enjoy the excitement of their plans for the day, as well as the happiness they were experiencing with family members visiting from out of state.

To my family member, I brought understanding, compassion, and a listening ear for each trial he was experiencing.

As I set down the telephone after the final conversation, I found myself smiling. Three different people. Three different circumstances. Yet all of us were doing the same thing—living life on life's terms.

What interests me is the diversity of each conversation and how, with each one, I could relate, comprehend, and become a small part of another person's journey through life's events.

You might ask, "What does this have to do with 'Life on Life's Terms'?"

I believe it is one of those deceptively simple statements that becomes deeper the longer we live.

I first heard the phrase, "Life on life's terms," in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. Yet, it reaches far beyond Alcoholics Anonymous. At twenty, it can sound pessimistic or even like surrender. At eighty-three, it can begin to sound like wisdom.

It acknowledges several truths at once:

• We do not control most of what happens to us.

• We do control how we respond.

• Acceptance is not the same as approval.

• Peace often arrives when resistance ends.

• Growth frequently comes disguised as inconvenience, loss, or disappointment.

There is an interesting tension in the phrase. On one hand, it asks us to accept reality. On the other, it does not ask us to become passive.

"Life on life's terms" does not mean, "I give up."

Rather, it says:

"I will stop arguing with reality and begin cooperating with it."

Perhaps this is why it resonates so deeply in recovery. Alcoholics spend years trying to negotiate with reality:

• "This shouldn't have happened."

• "People should treat me differently."

• "If only I had..."

• "Tomorrow will be different if I can just control one more thing."

Then, one day, we discover that life never signed our contract.

I have experienced loss, recovery, love, service, illness, faith, and new beginnings throughout my life.

"Life on life's terms" is not simply a slogan. It is lived experience.

Simply put:

"Life on life's terms" is acceptance.

"One day at a time" is endurance.

"Thy will be done" is faith.

Together, they form a kind of spiritual progression.

The older I become, the more I understand that wisdom is simply learning to hold life's joys and sorrows with an open hand.

We celebrate when life brings us a sunrise, a great-grandchild's birthday, or a meaningful conversation.

We also grieve when it brings us illness, separation, or the empty chair at the table.

Most importantly, we must understand that life keeps moving.

This is the hidden promise within the phrase: if we stop insisting that life conform to our expectations, we may discover that it still has gifts left to offer us.

So, when you say today's agenda is "life on life's terms," my response would be this:

Today's agenda includes acceptance, gratitude, surprise, and perhaps a lesson not yet revealed.

As the Big Book reminds us:

"We realize we know only a little. God will constantly disclose more to you and to us."

My experience has taught me that life is not something to conquer. It is something to participate in.

And today, as with every day, life will have the first word.

What remains is deciding what my answer will be.

Amen.

🙏🏻🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️