Worth It

Yesterday, my daughter was reluctantly folding a basket of laundry. I turned to my daughter and said, “I will finish folding your basket of laundry if you will go outside and get the dish pans for me.” (We'd been using them to build snow bricks and they were likely going to blow away in the wind.)

“Really?” she chirped. Then her face fell as she realized that she would have to put her snow gear back on, likely get wet, have to change clothes, etc. After a few moments' debate, her eyes brightened and she jumped up, exclaiming, “It's worth it!” Motivated by relief from the task at hand, she bounded down the stairs and out the door.

Earlier this week, I finally met one of my daily goals: going to bed early. What a blessing it was to get up early the next morning and have time to pray, study, write and accomplish a few things while everyone else was still sleeping! My day snow-balled and was filled with more and more blessings as the chain reaction of that one decision played out. Many prayers were answered. (I should add that heartfelt repentance and prayer were a major part of what led to the blessings, not just sleep).

The next night, however, did not go as well. When I awoke the next morning at 5:30 to feed Baby Hack, I had an internal debate. Should I go ahead and get up or go back to sleep for an hour or so? Sleep won. But I didn't. I awoke only minutes before the rest of the household, so my prayer and study were brief and there was not much time to accomplish anything, and no time to write. By the end of the day, I was discouraged and frustrated – a slave to my sorrow – again.

So the next day I found myself awake at 5:30 again and asking myself the question: Is it worth it?

A myriad of memories has been swimming through my head ever since. A speaker I'd heard, who said, “God told me that this blessing I was asking for would not come through casual effort.” A homeschooling mom who said, “If you don't get up early, you know you will have a bad day.” Part of a book called The Dream Giver, in which the author asserts that, like Abraham, there will come a point in your journey at which the Lord asks you to sacrifice the thing you love the most (food, sleep, pride, your self?). The message of the book, The Anatomy of Peace, which said that when you have a thought that you should do something and then you betray yourself and don't do it, you end up unhappy, making up excuses for your behavior and rationalizing your guilt away. I thought of my daughter's anticipation of relief and how it motivated her to act. Relief from guilt and sorrow could be a powerful motivator.

In essence, do we not all face this debate constantly? Is it worth it? We all have some thing (or more likely many things) lingering before us that is hard for us to do. It may be overcoming shyness so that you can speak to others. It may be overcoming fear so can do what you know you should. It may be sacrificing a bit of sleep so that you can have the blessing of powerful scripture study and prayer, or exercise, in your life. It might be sacrificing the pleasure of eating junk in order to preserve your health. Whatever it is that you feel you should do, but are finding trouble actually doing, take a step back and look at it wisely.

It all came together when I read Stephen Palmer's article, in which he says, “Wise people learn to foresee consequences and act accordingly.” He went on to quote Viktor Frankl, who said, “Live as though you are living already for the second time and as if you had acted the first time as wrongly as you are about to act now.”

I'd wager that most of us are walking around making most of our choices out of habit. If it's our habit to stay up late in the name of accomplishment even when that time ends up fruitless day after day, then we just keep doing it. Often, we feel powerless to change, thinking things like 'well, I slept late this morning, so I can't go to bed early tonight.' If it's our habit to procrastinate tasks that scare the living daylights out of us, or make us feel inadequate, then we will procrastinate them again and again. Each choice drives us further into the spiral of despair at the heart of our souls, where we know that we are not doing things that we should do.

I was deep down one of these spirals when the voice of the Lord said to me, “Where is your faith?” I realized that I was succumbing to the devil's convincing voice that I was just a failure and therefore could not succeed in overcoming. I wondered where my faith had gone? Faith is a principle of action. I should be acting, as I am free to do, to solve my problems. I should be acting to do the things that I know I should do.

Jacob 6:12 says “O be wise, what can I say more?” Wisdom helps me to see beyond the choice I am about to make. Wisdom foresees, “You will get sick if you continue eating this way.” “You will feel guilt and sorrow if you do not call those people and set up appointments with them this week, but real relief and happiness if you do.” “You will be blessed with power and calm throughout the day if you get up early and take care of your spirit and body.” Wisdom foresees that the craving, discomfort, and sleepiness will be short-lived if you make the right choice and plow through them.

Faith decides to actually care about what Wisdom says and do something about it. Faith puts away the box of graham crackers and chews a piece of gum. Faith picks up the phone and faces fear and reluctance. Faith goes to bed and gets up early. Faith doesn't do things the wrong way you've always done them. Faith makes a change.

“I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13).

Faith first believes this, then, through prayer and consistently acting and doing what should be done, Faith comes to know it is actually true. With Christ, I can. And I will. It doesn't matter how many times I've failed at it or how many times I still will fail as I am trying to improve. Each new day begins: With Christ, I can. And I will.

It. Is. Worth. It.

Do what you know you should.