Testimony, 1993

As I've been listening to General Conference on the Internet, I also was poking around on the computer, looking at old -- really old -- files. I came across a "journal" entry from 1993, when I was newly single again. It seems appropriate to post it now.

July 2, 1993

On the weekend of June 25–27, 1993, I attended a Single Adult Conference at Asilomar on the Monterey Peninsula. I had originally planned on staying inside my shell, but everyone was very friendly to me. And then… there were the dances. I was a dancing fool! So I had a lot of fun, and made quite a few friends.

On Sunday, I bore my testimony. I want to write down some of the things I said before I completely forget them. Actually, this will be the general ideas, rather than a verbatim record.

There is so much I’d like to say to you, my newest friends. But I’ll try to keep it to three minutes. First of all, for Alberta’s sake, (who gave a workshop on friendshipping, and told us to stop asking the same five questions all the time), my name is Curt, I’m from Fremont, I’m in my early 30s, I’ve been divorced for 5 months, I have two kids…

I never thought I would be at a Singles Conference at this stage of my life. And I’ve been thinking a lot about labels lately. “Divorced.” What connotations! Whether we’re unmarried, widowed, or divorced, couldn’t we come up with something more generic? Like… “Maritally Challenged.” And I was kind of hoping we would have those name tags here that say: “Hello, I’m…” so I could put “gainfully employed,” or “emotionally stable.” I almost feel like a carton of eggs, with an expiration date, like: “Best if married by…” Actually, the first time I went to the Danville dance, I wanted to wear one of those labels that say: “USDA Choice,” as if to say "look girls! Fresh meat!" [Note: later I did actually stop at the grocery store and picked up a "USDA Choice" sticker and wore it to the next single adult dance. Only a few people saw the humor.]

You know, one of the things I’ve learned from all of this is that expectations—the unspoken things we want from the other person—can be one of the hardest things on a relationship, especially if those expectations are unfulfilled. But I realized I was putting unfair expectations on my Heavenly Father—without even asking Him what He wants or intends. I realized that I’m supposed to be created in His image, not the other way around. How many times do we try to mold God to our own idea of what He should be? We would be better off trying to get to know Him as He really is. Or sometimes, we treat our Heavenly Father like a waiter in a restaurant. We think about Him most when we're looking at the menu and then tell Him what we want. But then, if He brings something else, we look up to Heaven and say "Hey! I didn't order this!" If I could paraphrase one of our great presidents: “Ask not what God can do for you; rather, ask God what you can do for His children.”

I have two darling daughters. My youngest, who’s 5, is really quite little. She’s about the same size as many 3-year olds I know. Anyway, her most common three-word phrases are: “I love you,” and “Carry me, Daddy.” Many times I do carry her. But sometimes I say: “No, you need to walk yourself. The exercise will do you good.” Or sometimes: “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t; I’m worn out.” And sometimes, when my own burdens seem like just too much to carry, I fall to my knees, and cry to my Heavenly Father in prayer: “Carry me, Daddy.” And then come those soft, assuring words: “No, son. You need to do this yourself. I’ll walk with you, but I can’t carry you.”

Oh, how I wish… how I hope you can feel the breadth and depth of the love the Lord has for you. I’ve known many people who beat themselves up over things they’ve done wrong, and wonder if the Lord could ever forgive them. Do you see that we don’t need to wonder? It’s a done-deal. Jesus Christ took his sins upon Himself and forgave us ahead of time. And He didn’t do it blindly; He did it knowing full well what scum some of us would turn out to be.

I know that God lives, that this is His work. And I know that God loves each of you. And as His servant—in the humblest sense of the word—I can say that I love you, too.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.