Weakness: an unacquired faith

On my mission I had a problem.  I had a weakness.  It wasn't chocolate, or dulce de leche, or even sleeping.  My weakness was being quiet.  Although I was bothered with my lack of success from my shyness, I did appreciate the alone time to contemplate eternal truths.  A missionary is not called to contemplate, unfortunately, so I tried my best to overcome my weakness. I prayed, I fasted, I looked at scriptures like Ether 12:2   

       "I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for          

      all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before 

      me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."

Nothing worked. I set goals for myself.  I asked my companions to help out.  I fasted.  Everything I tried was less successful than eating ice cream while scuba diving. I was still as laid back as a panda on a sunny day in the middle of vacation.  I never felt 'a change of heart' that I was seeking.  On one particular day, after an appointment fell through, I was walking with my companion and told myself I had to contact someone.  For the first time since I was with my trainer, the words stumbled out of my mouth like they were rocks covered with sandpaper smelling of constipated garbage.  The guy I was trying to talk with treated the conversation as such.  I wanted to pull my pre-frontal cortex out and throw it on the ground at that point, but unfortunately it got in the way of letting me do that too. 

The next day I hopped on the bus to zone conference pretty disgusted with myself.  I was the kid in the deep end drowning with floaties on his arms and legs.  I didn't know what to do with myself.  Luckily, as a missionary God is nice enough to give missionaries answers when they need it.  We watched Elder Holland's passionate talk "The First Great Commandment" only this was the missionary version.  As Elder Holland described Peter, I could only feel that I was nothing like the great apostle.  He was straightforward and bold.  I beat around the bush and seek to appease.  He acted immediately.  I am slow and thoughtful.  He was confident and sure.  I am often doubtful.  Still as confused as before, President Gulbrandsen announced we would be having interviews.  I felt I wanted to go first, and he surprisingly called me first to go out to meet with him in the office.  

We sat down, and he asked the traditional question how everything was going.  I told him the truth, and with all seriousness he asked me, "Elder Mackley, whats troubling you?"  Something just came over me and I started to bawl.  Really hard.  Like I had never done before.  I hadn't cried at all while in the mission field, not even when I found out my best friend had committed suicide.  President, knowing me so well, read my mind and asked me in an assured tone that it was about my timidness.  I affirmed, and he continued to give me a powerful message on "open thy mouth" from the Doctrine and Covenants.  

I learned something valuable from that meeting.   We don't need priesthood help only for sins of commission.  Sometimes we can't adequately overcome our weaknesses without the help of someone else.  I was omissively sinning and I needed help.   My interview with President Gulbrandsen's helped me, but it didn't change me.  I didn't feel any change during my mission.  I haven't felt one since.  

For the last 3 years I have struggled to adequately communicate my feelings towards others.  I think I've made progress.  I certainly have become better at conversation since returning home.  This last week, however, I realized that I haven't been changed yet. I haven't become the person I want to be because I haven't been able to do what I've wanted to do because I haven't been able to say what I've wanted to say.  I know that Moroni's promise must be true because I know the Book of Mormon is true.  Something else must be lacking.  As Elder Holland would say, "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief."  I know I can.  I did it after EFY when I was 14.  I was very outgoing as a junior companion.  What more does it take?

I didn't come to Jerusalem to find the solution to all my problems.  I didn't come expecting to be changed.  I came because I felt I needed to.  Look up.  I'm ready to stop thinking.  I'm ready to start doing.