Shape My Soul dear Lord

From Asking God to Fix My Life to Asking Him to Shape My Soul

Inspired by Sister Tamara W. Runia's talk, “The Sculpting of Our Souls”

Dear Reader,

Many years ago, I remember damaging a vehicle and, in my distress, asking God to fix it before I returned home.

Imagine that! I had made a mistake, and I wanted God to make the consequences disappear.

Looking back, I can smile at that younger version of myself. My faith was genuine, but my understanding of God's purpose in my life was limited. I believed that if I prayed sincerely enough, God might intervene and make everything right.

Today, after many years of living, learning, making mistakes, experiencing loss, and discovering the blessings of recovery and faith, my prayers have changed.

I no longer look to God simply to fix the problems I encounter. Instead, I ask for His wisdom, guidance, and inspiration to help me use the agency He has given me. I seek solutions that recognize not only my own needs but also the needs and well-being of everyone involved.

Recently, I read a message by Sister Tamara W. Runia of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints entitled “The Sculpting of Our Souls.” Her message awakened within me a deeper understanding of this change in my spiritual journey.

Sister Runia shares the story of a student struggling to sculpt a likeness of himself from clay. Despite his determination and effort, he cannot achieve the result he envisions. Eventually, he humbles himself and invites his instructor to help.

Under the hands of the master, the clay begins to take on a beauty and expression the student could not have achieved alone.

What a remarkable comparison to our own lives!

We spend much of our lives believing that our talents, education, experience, determination, and hard work will enable us to create the life we imagine.

Yet life seldom follows our carefully prepared designs.

We encounter disappointments, unexpected changes, broken relationships, illness, and losses we cannot repair. Our best efforts sometimes seem insufficient.

And it is here that I believe the Master Sculptor enters our lives—not necessarily to restore the design we once imagined, but to help us discover something we had never envisioned.

Through God and His Son, Jesus Christ, we are offered a foundation upon which to build, strength beyond our own understanding, and guidance toward possibilities we might otherwise never recognize.

This does not mean our difficulties disappear. Nor does it mean we surrender responsibility for the choices we make.

Quite the opposite.

Our faith invites us to become active participants in our own spiritual growth.

I have learned something similar through the principles of recovery. There is a profound difference between surrendering responsibility and surrendering the illusion that we can control everything.

In the Sixth and Seventh Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, we become willing to allow God to help remove those shortcomings that limit our spiritual growth.

We begin to understand that humility is not weakness. It is an invitation to receive guidance beyond our own abilities.

And as we grow, something beautiful can happen.

We become more patient, more compassionate, more willing to listen, and less inclined to judge the journeys of others.

I am also learning that while God may be sculpting my soul, He has not appointed me to sculpt the souls of others.

I can offer encouragement, share my experience, and extend a helping hand. But I must respect the agency of those around me.

Recently, someone I care about deeply began making choices about his life that differed from what I believed would be best for him. My first instinct was to offer guidance, perhaps even to persuade him to reconsider.

But I came to recognize that his journey belongs to him, just as mine belongs to me.

I could continue trying to direct his choices, or I could step back, respect his agency, and remain available as a friend.

I chose friendship.

Now, as he faces a difficult personal challenge, I have offered to be there for him if he needs me. My concern for his well-being does not depend upon whether he follows my advice.

That realization has brought me a measure of peace.

Sometimes love means stepping back and allowing another person to make decisions we may not understand or agree with.

And sometimes love means stepping forward, quietly offering to walk beside that person through a difficult experience.

Perhaps one of the greatest expressions of faith is learning when to do each.

Looking back across my own years, I can see that the life I am living today is not the life I imagined in my youth.

There have been painful experiences I would never have chosen. There have also been unexpected blessings, relationships, opportunities to serve, and spiritual discoveries I could never have anticipated.

I cannot claim to understand the purpose of every experience.

But I have come to believe that, through faith in Jesus Christ, even our most difficult experiences can become opportunities for greater understanding, compassion, and love.

The Master Sculptor has not finished His work.

And I am grateful that He continues to guide my hands, my heart, and my choices.

My prayer today is no longer simply, “Father, please fix what I have broken.”

It is, “Father, help me see what I cannot yet see. Guide me to use my agency wisely, to act with compassion, and to become the person You know I am capable of being.”

Dear Reader, perhaps the beauty of our lives is not found in how perfectly we have followed our original plans, but in our willingness to discover, through God's guidance, a design more meaningful than anything we could have imagined.

We are all works in progress.

And in the hands of the Master Sculptor, there is always the possibility of becoming.

🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️