The Light Grows Brighter
D&C 50:24 tells us: “That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.”
I recently found a compelling parable. I don’t know who the author is, but it illustrates how the light grows brighter and brighter as we progress.
Imagine yourself in a room, a very dark room with only a small amount of light visible—just enough to make out the outlines of some furniture and the walls around you. You can tell the room is in disarray. There is a couch haphazardly shoved into a corner with the cushions spread everywhere on the floor. Two chairs are overturned and a table with some legs missing is lying upside down in the middle of the room. A floor lamp with its shade missing is propped diagonally against the wall.
As you survey this scene, you hear a voice. And the voice says, “Clean the room.” So you get to work. You slide the couch against the wall and gather and replace all of its cushions. You set the chairs on their legs and move them to the other corners. You find the lampshade and place it on the floor lamp and set it upright. You determine that the table is unrepairable and throw it out of the room. Now, as you look around the room, you determine that it’s clean. So you call out to the voice saying, “The room is clean!” The voice responds, saying, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Clean the room again.” And with that, the room becomes a bit brighter.
Now, with the added light, you can see things that you couldn’t see before. You notice that there is a lot of trash and paper on the floor. There is a picture upside down in the corner that you missed before, and the end of a rolled-up rug is poking out from under the couch. So you clean up the trash, hang the picture on the wall, and roll the rug out in the middle of the room and you say to yourself, “Well there, the room is clean.” Then you hear the voice which says, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Clean the room again.” And with that, more light brightens up the room.
With the added light, you notice that the floor is covered in dirt, the chairs and couch are dusty, and the picture is hanging a little slanted on the wall. So you straighten the picture, sweep the floor, and dust all the furniture. Now you look around and say to yourself, “Surely, now the room is clean.” The voice responds, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Clean the room again.” The lights come on even brighter than before.
Now, you start to think about what more you could do. You think to yourself, “Well I could mop the floor and really make it shine. Those walls have a lot of smudges and dark spots on them; I’ll repaint them. I could vacuum the rug and perhaps I could reupholster the couch and repaint the chairs to match.” So you do all those things, and you call out to the voice, “The room is clean!” To which you hear the voice say “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Go and clean again.”
Now, you wonder what more you can do, but then a thought strikes you. I could get a new table, those other walls could use some beautiful pictures, perhaps I could add a vase with flowers and perhaps some new chairs. And on and on this could go. Every time you report, you are given more light and told to clean again. Pretty soon you’re knocking out walls, and adding wood floors, and upgrading the rug and furniture. You are filled with a vision of what the room could someday be and you find fulfillment and purpose in adding to and improving it.
When I initially read this parable, it triggered in me some perfectionism. If I am never finished cleaning the room, then I can’t check it off on my list. But actually, it illustrates very well the concept of eternal progression. We grow gradually into Godhood, here a little and there a little. My true goal is not really to clean a room, but to clean the inner vessel, as I become a new creature in Christ.
To be continued . . . with Part 66
The inner critic—that nagging inner voice—judges, criticizes, and demeans me. Over time, it damages my self worth and takes a toll on my soul. This destructive chatter is fueled by shame and faulty core beliefs—ultimately by the enemy, the father of lies.
Again from
When he looked at people, it was like He could see everything about them. Even though his atonement was in the future, He seemed to know all about them—their struggles and challenges. And he was full of mercy and compassion.
I watched the first season free online. I was so impressed that I made a donation to the cause. I also purchased the DVD set of Season 1, which helps them fund Season 2. I noticed at Deseret Book that the DVDs were in the #1 Bestseller spot on the shelf.
The religious scholars—who conducted the study at BYU—found that religious young adults experience better or poorer mental health as it connects to their belief in grace or in legalism. They surveyed 566 young adults at BYU (most of whom are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) and found that when these young adults believe more in grace and less in legalism, they experience less anxiety, depression, shame, religious guilt, and perfectionism. They also found the opposite: When young adults have a more legalistic view of God, they experience poorer mental health “because it interrupts [their] ability to experience grace.”
No matter how hard we work, no matter how much we obey, no matter how many good things we do in this life, it would not be enough were it not for Jesus Christ and His loving grace. On our own we cannot earn the kingdom of God, no matter what we do. Unfortunately, there are some within the Church who have become so preoccupied with performing good works that they forget that those works—as good as they may be—are hollow unless they are accompanied by a complete dependence on Christ.
Unfairness is all around us and it is troubling. If we’re not careful, the appearance of unfairness may cause us to reject the favorable along with the unfavorable. Or to use an idiomatic expression, “to throw the baby out with the bathwater.” Perceived unfairness deals us a major body blow.
The base isolator for unfairness is to develop faith in Jesus Christ and His atonement and understa
The Lord doesn’t want us to let our hearts be troubled or afraid. For a perfectionist, that’s easier said than done. Fear is at the core of our struggle. Fear of not being worthy of love or acceptance.
I promise each of us can and will be blessed with direction, protection, and lasting joy as we learn to not take counsel from our fears. As we exercise faith in Christ and trust in His promises, we can walk into the dark with the absolute assurance that our pathway will be illuminated at least far enough to take the next step and then the next step and the next step.
To make room for God to fill the vessel of our soul, we have to begin moving out some of the unnecessary clutter that continually accumulates there like the junk drawer in your kitchen. Everybody has a junk drawer, that black hole for car keys, pens, paper clips, gum, all the small flotsam and jetsam that accumulates over time. Our souls accumulate stuff, too, pulling it in like a magnet. And so Augustine said we must empty ourselves of all that fills us, so that we may be filled with what we are empty of. Over time I’ve found no better practice to help clear out my cluttered soul than the practice of benevolent detachment. The ability to let it go, walk away—not so much physically but emotionally,
Jesus invites us into a way of living where we are genuinely comfortable turning things over to him: Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. (Matthew 11:28–30 The Message) [Art by Yongsung Kim]
Again, for a variety of reasons some of those core needs we had as children were just not met. So the child, not having their needs met, does whatever it can to adapt to its environment, to survive. You can think of these adaptations as like the building of a makeshift spacesuit, in order to be able to breathe. Not even knowing you were making it, you were building the suit, just grasping for whatever seemed to work to help you be able to breathe in your environment. And somehow it allows you to survive, maybe through a lot of pain, but survival was achieved nonetheless. The spacesuit did its job.
Or could you respond in a way that is compassionate, where you are just there for them and you care for them, maybe in a way that you never received?
For the past couple of years, I’ve been interested in learning more about mindfulness and meditation. About a year-and-a-half ago, I took a
I recently finished the book,
A week ago I was in
I attended again and had a different, but similarly powerful experience. It was healing on deeper levels than the first time around. I made stronger connections with good men who have my back in the battles I fight. I left with a solid resolve and the skills to manage my perfectionism and to place the Lord at the center of my life.