Spiritual Benchmarks

I found a great picture for this post, but it is copyrighted. You can see it here. (You might have to right click on the link to open it.)

Paraphrasing and expounding on a point made in the Relief Society lesson the week before Christmas: There are spiritual benchmarks that we reach. [Another word for benchmark is milestone.] Often, as we are approaching the pinnacle of our efforts, we begin to doubt our abilities. We get discouraged when we look at others and feel that they are "higher up" on their peaks than we are. We wonder why we haven't met the benchmark that others seem to have already mastered. "Perhaps there is something wrong with me," we might think to ourselves.

But there is nothing wrong. Everyone has to experience the pain of growth as we approach our individual spiritual benchmarks. None of us is allowed to fly over the obstacles on the mountain. The pain we are feeling is evidence that we are on the right path.

Deer Near Miss

Tonight as I was driving the baby sitter home, I almost hit a deer. A short time earlier, I had a distinct thought that I should slow down. Even though I was having an energetic conversation with Heather, I remember that thought very clearly, and I automatically slowed down as soon as the thought occurred to me.

I would like to believe that this was the Spirit whispering to my spirit, though nothing in my emotional experience of the situation would indicate a supernatural force at work. Except perhaps that lucid thought about slowing down, amidst the turmoil which is my mind when I am driving and trying to hold a conversation at the same time.

But then I saw an ornament similar to this one:

And I wondered what the deer I almost hit would think of this golden, glowing creature. Does a deer have a sense of the supernatural? Or does it regard these statues as freakish abnormalities that should be avoided at all costs? Or, does it not even recognize the abstract visual representation of a foreign species?

Conversation with the 2 year old

Naomi: I want a pantsess.

Me: A what?

N: A pants-ess.

M: I don't understand what you're saying.

Naomi (louder): A PAN-CESS.

Me: Did you say a pantsess?

Naomi: I don't understand what you're saying.

Update: The conversation above occurred at bedtime. This morning, I asked Naomi what she was talking about. She took me to the medicine cabinet and repeated: "pancess." She wanted a bandaid on the owie on her chin. (We call bandaids "bandages" in our house.)