Scribbles

Last week Rose came home from primary at church with a picture of Jesus she had colored. I was slightly concerned when I looked at the page and saw that Rose had scrawled multi-colored scribbles all over the outline of Jesus on the paper. I could still see the outline of Jesus, but the page was covered in scribbles. I thought "she's seven! That's too old to scribble messily like Amber does, especially on a picture of Jesus!" While trying to figure out how to explain to Rose why it's sad to scribble on Jesus, I asked her why she had scribbled all over Him. She knitted her dark eyebrows, puckered her ruby lips, and explained intently: "I held all of the best colors in my hand at once and colored all of them on Jesus so he would be beautiful."

A simple shift in perspective changed a scribble-scrabble careless coloring page into a work of art and display of love and respect for Jesus. Rose didn't see her paper as messy or rushed; she saw it as a way to put the best colors all onto Jesus to make him beautiful. I feel so much when I think about that beautifully simple lesson from my Rose-girl.

While listening to general conference, my mind's eye zoomed out and I saw myself as one little speck in the sea of humanity, bumbling along the best way I know how, just like everybody else. I imagined each of my best efforts to navigate life creating a little scribble on or around myself like Rose's picture. Like one of those stressful video games that I detest, life's challenges seem to always fly at me just a little faster than I can handle gracefully without making desperate flailing motions at the screen. Sometimes flailing and scribbling around is the best I can do! From the right perspective, scribbles can also be beautiful.

As all of these impressions and images settled in my heart, I realized how easy it is to get caught up in the midst of all the scribbles generated by my flailing and bumbling around. Sometimes the scribbles even obscure the big picture underneath. While listening to the general conference speakers, I felt all of my current mixed-up scrambled scribbles smooth out and like Rose's picture, I saw the outline of the Savior underneath it all. My vision cleared with that burning resonance of truth: I am a child of God. I am here on earth to do my best, and my best is always enough.

Jesus Christ LIVES. He is always there for us, no matter how many layers we scribble over his outline.