Temple, Carnal, Natural, Fallen, Godly, Whaaa?

I'm not sure I understand about bodies yet.

Mostly, mine seems like a ball and chain.  I have to eat, I have to sleep, I have weird hormonal fluctuations that I have no (little?) control over and which make me feel like a wicked witch.  It doesn't seem fair to be "punished" every month by feeling down, dark, grumpy and miserable to such an extent that light and Spirit are hard to detect.  It doesn't seem fair to have the very vehicle which allows me to bear children also be the vehicle which leads me to crash and burn because I did have children (i.e., get postpartum depression).

Our bodies are "the temple of God," in that they house our Spirits, and can house the Spirit of God, and so are a holy place.  But our bodies are also fallen, mortal, carnal, natural and make us enemies to God.  And it isn't as though we've been handed a slum and told to clean it up into a beautiful, clean place.  The "slum" aspects never go away.  We are stuck with hormones, hunger, carnal temptations, exhaustion and mental issues for life.  That is why Adam and Eve couldn't eat the Fruit of the tree of Life, because if they were stuck in their fallen bodies forever, there would be no hope for them.  Right? So how can we overcome them?  What are we supposed to do with these carnal creations that clothe our Spirits?

Getting a body is a big deal.  It allows us to be more like God, but also makes us his enemy.  It's like we've been handed a sword that is too heavy and which will one day be very useful when we are valiant warriors, but in the mean time, we keep slicing ourselves and every one around us to pieces.  No fun.

Mosiah 3:19 says  "For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father."


How do we put off the natural man?  Is the "natural man" the hormones that make the world appear dark in my eyes, and the exhaustion that makes me a zombie and the mental instability that makes me think my kids might be better off without me?  Isn't the "natural man" the human condition, the fallen, mortal state that we are in?  How can that be put off?  


Perhaps that is not the natural man.  Perhaps, the "natural man" is an attitude, a perspective that is typically generated by the frustrations and pains of our mortal bodies.  Perhaps it is the impatient, faithless, "this is impossible, therefore God must not know what he is doing" attitude that sometimes comes in the wake of a particularly difficult time with this mortal body and fallen world.  Those feelings are certainly the opposite of "submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father."  


In the temple on Saturday, I was reminded that we fell and left the garden and entered this life to gain knowledge.  If part of the point of this life, and a necessary step to becoming like Heavenly Father is knowing light and darkness, health and sickness, pleasure, pain, good evil, etc., a fallen body is certainly the way to go.  There is not much darker than depression, or more painful than being angry and hurting the feelings of your sweet child.  Sicknesses of the heart or mind or body are all part of this life, and boy do we learn about their reality as we live through them.  Pain, darkness, sorrow, sickness, evil, then, are all part of God's plan for us, for this life.  We can be angry and hateful and loose faith over it, or we can recognize that it is only a moment, and yet has the power to lead us to Godhood.  Can depression make me more like God?  It seems like a stretch, when I have a hard time thinking, seeing, believing positively, or feeling the Spirit for months on end, or when I feel like I live in a black hole.  Yet, "all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good."  I have certainly come to know darkness.


Can I believe it?  Can it really be so?  Can all the suffering be for good?  Can I willingly submit and say "thank you?"  Apparently so, if I can put off the "natural man."  And that is done through the atonement.  How is that?  Is it a matter of repentance?  Repenting for being impatient, faithless, ungrateful, grumpy, witchy, etc.  But repenting kind of gets one back on neutral ground, it isn't the same as progress.  
 . . . .


It has been a day since when I last wrote, and I've been stewing on this question.  Several thoughts came to mind:


The Atonement not only allows us to repent, it heals our hearts.  Because of the atonement, we can be healed from the grief, suffering, frustration, etc. that is part of our fallen state in this fallen world.  Christ experienced everything we experience.  God doesn't ask us to go through anything without knowing Christ will go through it with us.  Christ knows perfectly how it is to be depressed, hormonal, impatient, angry (hurting a little child's feelings surely hurts him more than it hurts me.)  Knowing that, and knowing what love He has for me, I think, allows me to be more submissive.  He isn't asking anything he didn't do himself.  He can make it all right.  And he wouldn't put me (and himself) through pain gratuitously.  There must be a loving reason for it.  Knowing of the atonement is humbling (not only did he suffer what I'm suffering, he suffers what I do to others, and what everyone suffers and causes others to suffer.  And I think I've got it rough?) Knowing God's love and his nature and understanding the atonement allow me to have patience, and be willing to take what He gives me, because He has a much clearer perspective than I do (especially when I'm hungry/tired), and I can trust Him.  Like I would trust a loving father (which he is) and like I wish my kids would trust me (when I deserve it.)  More than all that, I could even be grateful for the troubles of this body, now, because one day I will understand what He does and will be grateful, so why not start now.


A couple of years ago, Ethan had a teacher who was great .  One night he prayed "Heavenly Father, thank you for a teacher who gives us consequences so we can learn to do the right." I was amazed that he was grateful for the unpleasantness, because he saw that it was a means to an end.


This next thought might not seem on topic, but it will get there.  
We (Sam and I) have had two opportunities to help other families in a substantial way.  There has been a pattern each time, and according to my observations the pattern holds true elsewhere, too.  First, upon receiving the help, the people we are serving are grateful.  There are good feelings, joy in each other and the shared experience of a Zion-like community.  Everything is wonderful. But slowly, the gratitude is replaced by expectation.  Our gifts are taken it for granted, and those receiving them begin to view us as the dominating/empowered force and themselves as less empowered.  We begin to be divided, and our relationships grow distant.  Moods continue to change until the recipients feel we aren't doing enough, and grow resentful.  Commitments they made made in conjunction with receiving our help are ignored, recipients view themselves not as agents but as victims, and their resentment grows to animosity and anger.  


The pattern has always saddened me.  It is like watching the situation descend from a Celestial to a Telestial state.  I've always wondered what happened and how much I was to blame.  My intentions are always the same--to help!  But I become the bad-guy in the minds of those I am trying to reach out to.  It hurts and worries me.  I've always sworn to myself that I would never, given a receiving relationship, grow resentful.  I would always, always be grateful.  


However, as I was thinking about this issue, I realized that I have already, and am frequently failing to keep that promise to myself.  The Lord is the great giver.  He gives us a million good things, and while I may be grateful for each gift at first,I am quick to take it for granted and then to resent God for not giving more, or making my life easier than it is, or whatever.


A recent example was on the trip to St. Louis last week.  I had Isaac, Dora and Carol in the car with me, and I'd planned on letting the girls watch Book of Mormon Stories on the DVD player while Isaac napped.  Only the DVD player wouldn't work, so the girls continued playing and Isaac had a hard time napping. We stopped and I worked on it some more, and then we said a prayer for help, but to no avail.  I was quickly filled with frustration and anger.  "Why, God?!" I thought.  "It would be soooo easy for you to just make this darn thing work and let me have a little peace and quiet."  I really felt like "curs[ing] God."   I decided to tell scripture stories to the girls, and asked for requests.  Dora asked for Job.  By the time I was done telling it, I felt pretty humbled.  Job did not curse God and die.  He was the epitome of being "submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father."  


When we were in the midst of providing for one set of people, there was a time in which I saw gratitude had dwindled to nothing, and everyone was stuck in an attitude of resentment and distraction.  I grew worried/frustrated and removed access to the great distractor for everyone in the house, hoping to better the situation.  It was non-essential, and access could be had elsewhere with a little effort, but the back lash that ensued from its removal was violent.  The venom in the reproaches and curses that were hurled at me were staggering.  I was ostracized, ignored, lectured, sworn at and verbally abused.  It was amazing to me, particularly in  light of the broader situation.


And yet, there I was, doing the same thing to God, because the DVD player didn't work.  I can imagine what he must have seen in the situation: "Julia, I have kept your son alive, I helped you identify his current problem when no one else could, I miraculously led you to the best doctor in the country to treat the problem, I provided an easy mode of transportation (complete with AC and 70mph), and a comforting/supportive place to stay when you arrive.  I inspired your family to send two children, rather than one, on this particular trip, so they can occupy each other happily, and don't even need the DVD player.  I have prepared all things for you and blessed you in abundance, and you curse me for the DVD player not working?"  Yeah, it seems pretty amazingly myopic and pathetic.  After telling the story of Job, I pointed out to the girls that sometimes the Lord doesn't do what we would like him to do, (including not making the DVD player work) and sometimes life is hard, but we can always have faith in Him, and know that He loves us and we can trust Him.  I was reminded it as I told it, and they agreed thoroughly.
. . . .
Another day, and still this train of thought has not concluded.  I must get to my point:


Perhaps my problems with my body are myopic.  Perhaps in my frustration and determination that the situation is hopeless and horrible, I am failing to consider the broader perspective, and particularly the blessings that come with this body.  Surely the Lord knows what He is about.  Let me be grateful:
With a body, I can learn (and do) good and evil.
With a body, I can bear children
with a body, I can be more powerful than Satan
with a body, I can practice essential spiritual principles like discipline and patience
with a body, I can enjoy and experience the beauty of the world
with a body,  my spirit can grow strong (if a body is sometimes like a ball and chain, my spirit has lots of opportunities to exercise!)
with a body, I can become more like my Father in heaven
with a body, I can fulfill the measure of my creation 


Sam pointed out to me that my thoughts about the impossibility of overcoming a fallen body reminded him of his feelings as a boy about learning to ride a bike.  The only way to ride was to balance, but he couldn't do it! His parents kept pushing him forward, which was frightening and seemed cruel, because he couldn't even balance while he was holding still yet!  He didn't understand that the ability to balance can only be mastered by moving forward, and it is only in the forward motion that the impossible task of balancing is made possible.  


Perhaps the impossible task of overcoming the natural man, and dealing with this fallen body is made possible by simply continuing to move forward, to focus on the distant goal instead of the pedals and the bumps and the ground rushing by.  The atonement is necessary for the forward progress, as is gratitude, and God is will give us pushes.  We can either thank him for it or curse him for it.  


Well, this was a rather convoluted post.  Here is what I know:
I can trust God absolutely.  Even if I don't understand, or something seems backwards, I can move forward with trust.  (The times when it was so hard, helping others, created a bond of trust with Him that I sometimes forget but is nevertheless tried and true.)


There is a reason for my body, and I can thank him for it instead of being miserable.


I need to go pick the kids up from school now.  I'm already late!