Mets Day 179 - Of Regrets and Resolutions

I spent this past weekend at our lake house with Jennifer and our good friends Bill, Bernice and Cynthia.  Walter could not make it due to work commitments.  It is a good thing to spend prolonged time with close friends.  We talked, laughed, comforted each other, ate good food, played games, went boating, and applied balm to our souls.  Good friends are precious to have, and I am grateful for them. 

Last night, after they left for home, Jennifer and I started listening to some of the talks from our church's semi-annual general conference.  Twice a year, regular Sunday church meetings are cancelled, and church members are instead asked to listen to or read ten hours of talks broadcast and streamed from the church headquarters in Salt Lake City.  (A link to the main page for these talks is here.)  One announcement that caught my attention was that the church has dropped the age for missionaries to serve from 19 to 18 for young men, and from 21 to 19 for young women.  An LDS mission is voluntary and self-financed; each young man or woman is encouraged to prepare and save.  The window for service is now between ages 18 (or 19 for women) to about age 26.  If they are deemed ready and worth by local church leaders, then they may be sent anywhere in the world for 18 months to two years.  That means that Kirsten could leave on a mission in as soon as a year and a half, should she choose to go, and Garrett, should he so choose, could be leaving on a mission in less than four years.  Time does fly by.

One of the talks that penetrated my soul was an address titled "Of Regrets and Resolutions," by Dieter F. Uchtdorf.  (I don't think the speech has been transcribed yet, but video or audio of it is available here.)  Elder Uchtdorf was raised in East Germany, eventually moved to West Germany with his family, joined the church, and was a commercial airline pilot before being called as an apostle about 10 years ago.  He spoke of how precious years on earth, in the eternal perspective barely amount to the blink of an eye.  He built his sermon around the regrets commonly expressed by the terminally ill:  I wish I had spent more time with the people I love.  I wish I had lived up to my potential.  I wish I had let myself be happier. 

On spending more time with the people I love, Elder Uchtdorf said that men in particular regretted having spent so much time on work that they lost out on choice memories that come from spending time with family and friends.  As my faithful blog readers well know, I have recently been contemplating my work/life balance, which has been magnified by both the fact that I have Stage IV cancer, and that I continue to suffer from sleep deprivation due to my malfunctioning neobladder.  Last week I spoke with one of my partners, who strongly encouraged me to apply for and take the disability, and spend time with family and friends.  Other partners have likewise encouraged me to do so.  On Friday, I signed the forms and sent them in.  I have not yet figured out what I will be doing, but I intend to spend much more time with family and friends.  Hearing Elder Uchtdorf speak about the importance of doing that confirmed the correctness of my decision. 

On living up to my potential, Elder Uchtdorf said that when terminally ill patients looked back on their lives, they realized that they never lived up to their potential, that "too many songs remained unsung."  He added:

"I am not speaking here of climbing the ladder of success in our various professions. That ladder, no matter how lofty it may appear on this earth, barely amounts to a single step in the great eternal journey awaiting us. Rather, I am speaking of becoming the person God, our Heavenly Father, intended us to be.... Our Heavenly Father sees our real potential. He knows things about us that we do not know ourselves. He prompts us during our lifetime to fulfill the measure of our creation, to live a good life and to return to His presence.  Why then, do we devote so much of our time and energy to things that are so fleeting, so inconsequential and so superficial? Do we refuse to see the folly in the pursuit of the trivial and transient?"

My faith has helped me keep a balance between the trivial and the profound.  I know that, in the long run, my work pales in comparison to my relationships with family and friends.  I believe that my soul is eternal, and the essence of what I am will not be extinguished when my body finally gives out.  I find great comfort in that belief.  My challenge, as underscored by Elder Uchtdorf, is keeping that perspective and balance each day.  After singing the law for more than 24 years, I am now trying to decide what other songs I want to sing. 

Elder Uchtdorf's last point, about being happy, was consistent with my attitude.  He emphasized joy in the journey, relating how sometimes he and his wife would go for a bike ride, and the competitive side of him would make him want to go faster, be better than the last time they rode a route.  His wife would encourage him to not focus on the finish line, but to enjoy the ride.  He said that we don't listen to music to wait for the end of the song, but to enjoy the melody, harmony, and variations as they occur.  Life, he said, is better lived if we view it like a song.  "No matter our circumstances, no matter our challenges or trials, there is something in each day to embrace and cherish. There is something in each day that can bring gratitude and joy if only we will see and appreciate it. Perhaps we should be looking less with our eyes and more with our hearts."

 Every now and then a conference talk seems to be directed specifically to me.  Elder Uchtdorf's talk was one of those instances.  I suspect I will be going back to those words with some frequency and I recalibrate my life and focus it on being and becoming a better man.