I Have Never Sacrificed Anything For My Family!

Inspired by chapter 13

"When you make a sacrifice in marriage, you're sacrificing not to each other but to unity in a relationship." - Joseph Campbell

As I write this I sit at my work desk with a cold, my asthma flaring up, and generally not wanting to be here. I can honestly that that while I like the company I work for, I don’t particular enjoy my job most of the time. I sell insurance over the phone to people who call in not wanting value, but price and more often have no sense of respect or courtesy as they are only thinking of themselves. I don’t like leave my family at home knowing that my wife will struggle with the girls, keeping the house clean, juggling the beginnings of a career I want her to be successful in doing. I don’t like leaving my girls for the majority of my day while they have all the joyous adventures their little minds create as I also often miss seeing the milestones of their growth. I don’t like juggling school, work, taking care of all the bill related things or other administrative tasks/chores in our marriage with work being smack dab in the middle of the day and lingering into the evening. Honestly there are some days where I feel utterly trapped by my decisions in life and in some senses I am and I must learn to embrace that. 

In all reality I am a selfish, spoiled only child who doesn’t really know if he’s ever really had to sacrifice anything in life. Anything I really have had to sacrifice normally comes with a fight and unwilling attitude that almost nullifies the sacrifice itself. Sure when I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I quit consuming alcohol and drugs but did so again begrudgingly. I also lost some friends, and give up my time and efforts in order to serve others within my ward and community through lay ministry but I feel that is more a microscopic trade for the salvation can receive through the Savior. Even when I got married and started our family I can’t really say I’ve even sacrificed anything really in the process. 

The reason why I say this goes back to my attitude for towards these pseudo sacrifices I’ve made in my life. I may have given up something, given something, or completed some task or assignment but if I’ve done these things without the proper attitude I have sacrificed nothing. 

When early Saints in Nauvoo decided to leave they sacrificed an extreme amount including their homes, their Temple, even their very lives. They did so for their families, their God, their religion, for each other. While they may not have wanted to, while it caused pain, frustration, heartache they none the less did so willingly thinking not of themselves alone. When I went to Nauvoo in 2009 I was touched by a story about a sacrifice John Taylor made which was published in the March 2010 “Friend” magazine. I am going to share it here:

For weeks, Nauvoo had been buzzing with activity. Wagons clattered along frozen streets. People rushed to and fro carrying packages and carting barrels of food. Joseph Taylor knew he would not see this scene much longer. Soon, the Saints would be leaving their homes on the bank of the Mississippi River to travel west.

“Joseph, I need you to load the wagon,” his mother called from the kitchen.

Joseph had been avoiding this for days. He didn’t mind helping, but he knew that once the wagon was loaded, they’d have to leave.

A scratchy burlap sack tickled his face as he lifted it into the wagon’s shallow bed. His family had hardly even started packing, yet the wagon was almost full.

“Where are we putting everything else?” Joseph asked his mother as he picked up another sack in the kitchen.

“We’re only taking the necessities, Joseph,” his mother said. “I thought you understood that. There just isn’t enough room for everything.”

Joseph’s eyes started to fill with tears. It was bad enough leaving his comfortable home, but now they had to leave all of their favorite things too.

Joseph ran upstairs and into the toy room. It was his favorite part of the house. He had spent hours here imagining grand adventures while riding his wooden rocking horse that his father had carved for him. Joseph ran his hand over the horse and felt its golden mane of real horsehair. He realized that he would have to say good-bye to it forever.

On a frosty morning, Joseph’s family tied the canvas covering over their wagon and shut the door of their home for the last time. After inching their way through the snow, they boarded a ferry and pushed off to cross the icy river. Joseph watched as Nauvoo—and his beloved toy horse—slipped farther into the distance.

That night when the Saints set up camp, Joseph wrapped up in a quilt and warmed his hands over a fire. But nothing could help the cold ache in his heart.

Joseph’s father placed a hand on his shoulder. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

Joseph felt foolish. Everyone had left important things behind. “I miss my horse,” he said, starting to cry. “I love him so much, and I’ll never see him again.”

Joseph’s father pulled him close. “I understand,” he said. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed for missing something you love.”

When Joseph awoke the next morning, his father, who was an Apostle, had left to help some other families in need. Joseph gathered wood and fed the animals. He filled pots with ice from the creek so his mother could cook supper.

As the sun dipped below the horizon that evening, Joseph saw his father coming into camp. He looked exhausted. Ever since he had been injured at Carthage, he had needed to use a cane to help him walk. Today he was limping more than usual. His face was red from the cold, and there was snow on his jacket.

“But it hasn’t snowed all day,” Joseph thought. “Where has Father been?”

Then he saw it. Tied to his father’s horse was Joseph’s rocking horse. His father had ridden all the way back to Nauvoo, across the icy Mississippi River, and risked being caught by the angry mobs just to retrieve Joseph’s beloved horse.

“I think he’ll like going on this adventure to the West, don’t you?” his father asked as Joseph raced into his outstretched arms.

Joseph’s father, John Taylor, served as President of the Church after Brigham Young. The rocking horse (shown above, 20 inches tall by 34 inches long) traveled all the way to the Salt

Lake Valley. Today, it can be found in the upstairs toy room of the John Taylor home in Nauvoo, Illinois.

https://www.lds.org/friend/2010/03/the-love-of-a-father?lang=eng

When I first heard that story from an elderly Sister Missionary with crippling arthritis I teared up and wanted so badly to be that kind of father someday. While I am now a husband and father I am at nowhere near the level of John Taylor and I am ashamed to admit that. I want to repent and change my attitude and have the meaning of real sacrifice in my day to day actions. I want to sacrifice my time and personal wants for my family; I want to have that attitude knowing that I am truly giving of myself willingly, without spite or expectation of return. 

I want to return back to the presence of my Savior someday with nothing left of me but the part that I gave to Him while the rest of me was given to my family so when they return I will truly be whole and one with them.