Agency

Especially in America, we take our agency for granted. Yet the ability to choose for ourselves was seriously challenged before our mortal lives. Tonight we took a minute to reflect & remember the one who defended our right to choose.

We read Moses 4:1-3

1 And I, the ^aLord God, spake unto Moses, saying: That ^bSatan, whom thou hast commanded in the name of mine Only Begotten, is the same which was from the ^cbeginning, and he came before me, saying—Behold, here am I, send me, I will be thy son, and I will ^dredeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost, and surely ^eI will do it; wherefore ^fgive me thine honor.

2 But, behold, my Beloved ^aSon, which was my Beloved and ^bChosen from the beginning, said unto me—^cFather, thy ^dwill be done, and the ^eglory be thine forever.

3 Wherefore, because that ^aSatan ^brebelled against me, and sought to destroy the ^cagency of man, which I, the Lord God, had given him, and also, that I should give unto him mine own power; by the power of mine Only Begotten, I caused that he should be ^dcast down;

And then I read this story:

Angel on a Doorstep

BY SHIRLEY BACHELDER

When Ben delivered milk to my cousin's home that morning, he wasn't his usual sunny self. The slight, middle-aged man seemed in no mood for talking.

It was late November 1962, and as a newcomer to Lawndale, Calif., I was delighted that milkmen still brought bottles of milk to doorsteps. In the weeks that my husband, kids and I had been staying with my cousin while house-hunting, I had come to enjoy Ben's jovial repartee.

Today, however, he was the epitome of gloom as he dropped off his wares from his wire carrier. It took slow, careful questioning to extract the story from him. With some embarrassment, he told me two customers had left town without paying their bills, and he would have to cover the losses. One of the debtors owed only $10, but the other was $79 in arrears and had left no forwarding address. Ben was distraught at his stupidity for allowing this bill to grow so large.

"She was a pretty woman," he said, "with six children and another on the way. She was always saying, 'I'm going to pay you soon, when my husband gets a second job.' I believed her. What a fool I was! I thought I was doing a good thing, but I've learned my lesson. I've been had!"

All I could say was, "I'm so sorry."

The next time I saw him, his anger seemed worse. He bristled as he talked about the messy young ones who had drunk up all his milk. The charming family had turned into a parcel of brats.

I repeated my condolences and let the matter rest. But when Ben left, I found myself caught up in his problem and longed to help. Worried that this incident would sour a warm person, I mulled over what to do. Then, remembering that Christmas was coming, I thought of what my grandmother used to say: "When someone has taken from you, give it to them, and then you can never be robbed."

The next time Ben delivered milk, I told him I had a way to make him feel better about the $79.

"Nothing will do that," he said, "but tell me anyway."

"Give the woman the milk. Make it a Christmas present to the kids who needed it."

"Are you kidding?" he replied. "I don't even get my wife a Christmas gift that expensive."

"You know the Bible says, `I was a stranger and you took me in.’ You just took her in with all her little children."

"Don't you mean she took me in? The trouble with you is, it wasn't your $79."

I let the subject drop, but I still believed in my suggestion. We'd joke about it when he'd come. "Have you given her the milk yet?" I'd say.

"No," he'd snap back, "but I'm thinking of giving my wife a $79 present, unless another pretty mother starts playing on my sympathies."

Every time I'd ask the question, it seemed he lightened up a bit more.

Then, six days before Christmas, it happened. He arrived with a tremendous smile and a glint in his eyes. "I did it!" he said. "I gave her the milk as a Christmas present. It wasn't easy, but what did I have to lose? It was gone, wasn't it?"

"Yes," I said, rejoicing with him. "But you've got to really mean it in your heart."

"I know. I do. And I really feel better. That's why I have this good feeling about Christmas. Those kids had lots of milk on their cereal just because of me."

The holidays came and went. On a sunny January morning two weeks later, Ben almost ran up the walk. "Wait till you hear this," he said, grinning.

He explained he had been on a different route, covering for another milkman. He heard his name being called, looked over his shoulder and saw a woman running down the street, waving money. He recognized her immediately -- the woman with all the kids, the one who didn't pay her bill. She was carrying an infant in a tiny blanket, and the woman's long brown hair kept getting in her eyes.

"Ben, wait a minute!" she shouted. "I've got money for you."

Ben stopped the truck and got out.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I really have been meaning to pay you." She explained that her husband had come home one night and announced he'd found a cheaper apartment. He'd also gotten a night job. With all that had happened, she'd forgotten to leave a forwarding address. "But I've been saving," she said. "Here's $20 toward the bill."

"That's all right," Ben replied. "It's been paid."

"Paid!" she exclaimed. "What do you mean? Who paid it?"

"I did."

She looked at him as if he were the Angel Gabriel and started to cry.

"Well," I asked, "what did you do?"

"I didn't know what to do, so I put an arm around her. Before I knew what was happening, I started to cry, and I didn't have the foggiest idea what I was crying about. Then I thought of all those kids having milk on their cereal, and you know what? I was really glad you talked me into this."

"You didn't take the $20?"

"Heck no," he replied indignantly. "I gave her the milk as a Christmas present, didn't I?"

It was very late and I was tired and forgot about the hymn. However, in the past, we have sung "How Great the Wisdom & the Love"

This devotional has really helped me out at Christmas time in the past and even this year. Every year something comes up that I frustrates my plans or makes celebrating the season difficult. It can be so easy for resentment to build. Realizing and appreciating my agency has made a huge difference. I spent the evening running a million errands and setting up tables and chairs for the annual Nativity Open House that will be on Sat. It is a school night and yet we didn't get home until a bit after 11:00. It would have been so easy to be resentful. I am so glad for this devotional in the past and for it being today's devotional. The heavy chores of the evening have become part of my Christmas gift to my ward. I was grateful to serve and to have an opportunity to give something more precious than a purchased gift - my time. Tonight, I am not only thankful for my agency, but so grateful that, this time, I appreciated the gift enough to discover the gifts of service & love. I am so grateful to Christ for understanding how critical our agency was and being our first defender.

And lastly, I must record this "Salting of the Oats" story for posterity-

Just after 10:00 tonight we pulled up at a home to pick up the greenery for the Nativity Open House. The family had left it out on the front porch because they were going to be gone. Ryan's door handle on the car is broken and he was dressed in shorts (huge eye roll) and he was holding eggs from the store on his lap, so I began to jump out to get the huge box. Just as I was getting out, Ry made a comment about it being "good that I knew my place". I KNOW. I could NOT believe I just heard those words come from his mouth. I was very calm, but I knew that a line had been drawn in the sand. I got back into the car, rolled down his window, turned off the car and said, "we will not be leaving here until you change your attitude and put the box in the car. My "place" in life is to be your mother and teach you respect for others. I am not forcing you to pick up the box, but I am choosing to stay here until you choose to put the box in the car." Did I say that it was 25 degrees outside? Well, he is 12 and came up with plenty of 12 yr. old excuses. He too knew a line had been drawn. It took over 30 minutes but the box was eventually loaded and I did not load it. Agency is a tricky thing as a parent. I am so grateful to the Spirit that let me know this lesson was crucial and for giving me ideas on how to "salt his oats" while honoring his agency.