I can’t believe I complained. I know better. I feel like a fool.
Sunday morning, my son informs me he needs to bring the bread for Sacrament Meeting, just as a back-up. He is the Pres. of his Teacher’s Quorum and last week someone forgot and we had to postpone the sacrament until the bread arrived. (The boys rotate this responsibility, so we have brought it before — and this is my 4th son, I should be used to this routine.)
When he told me, we had 30 min until church began, and the only bread I had in the house was this yummy, sourdough bread that I was planning to eat for lunch. I had hesitated to buy it because it was a little expensive, but it looked and smelled so good.
I was complaining, “OH, I wish you had told me last night when I was at the store, all I have are English Muffins and this $4.79 sour dough bread, that I am planning to eat for lunch.”
And I grumbled.
Well, we brought the bread, and I complained. “Just leave it in the car, in case you don’t need it.” I had my son run in and check to see if the other young man had brought the bread. No. So, in went my yummy, sourdough bread.
Then I felt bad for complaining. What was I thinking? The Lord blesses me with enough money to buy the bread, and then I don’t want to donate it for the sacrament? “Oh, it’s my bread,” I was thinking.
I saw the error in my thoughts and words, and quickly repented, and vowed not to be so stupid and selfish again. After all, didn’t the widow give her last mite? Sure, money is tight right now, that’s the test. It’s hard to give when you have little, and hard to give when you have a lot (let us not forget the rich man and the eye of the needle.)
The sacrament tray headed my way, and I renewed my covenants, with more meaning. My other son, who had no knowledge of my morning capers, looked at me and said, “oh, sour dough.”
And everyone got some of that (not mine) yummy bread.
After church, I told my son I was sorry, “that was really stupid of me.”
And he said, “I told them to save two slices for my mom so she could make a sandwich, but all that was left was the heel.”
Oh boy, what a fool I was.
The first rule, and one never to be forgotten, is that everything you have or ever will have, individually and collectively, is a gift from God, something that he blesses you with, has blessed you with, or will bless you with – you owe it all to him. (Hugh Nibley)
