Imagine that you have this little toy car (I played with cars as a kid, okay?). It's the prettiest, most wonderful toy car you've ever seen. The exterior design is perfect, the wheels never snag or stick, and you can run it the whole length of your bedroom and back and it's unbelievably easy to imagine yourself as the best racecar driver in the world. You spend hours playing with this perfect toy car. You take it with you wherever you go and show it off to all of your friends.
Then one day, your dad asks you to give him your toy car. Like, for keeps. "But why, Dad? This is my very favorite car. Here, how about I give you this other one instead?" But your dad insists. It has to be your toy car. Your very favorite one. He is firm but gentle in his request and finally you relent and place it in his outstretched hand. He deftly tucks it away and you feel a piece of your heart shatter. You loved that car so much that you can't imagine how you're going to have fun without it. While tears fill your eyes, your dad turns and pulls out something new: A bike.
Not only is the bike much bigger and nicer than your toy car, but it will take you places. You don't have to pretend you're a racecar driver anymore; you can race around on your bike for real. Suddenly your world just got so much larger. You can go farther and get there faster with your bike than you ever could take your toy car. You don't have to ask Mom for a ride to your friend's house. Now you can get there yourself.
Pretty soon, however, your dad comes back to you and asks you to give him your bike. You feel upset. He gave you that bike. Why on earth is he wanting to take it back now? But your dad is so kind and gentle and loving that you do it anyway. And he gives you the keys to your very own motorcycle.
With all that horsepower, you can carry yourself and a substantial amount of weight across incredible distances at incredible speeds. Your world just expanded again.
And so it goes on. Eventually, your dad asks for the return of the motorcycle and gives you a car that allows you to carry yourself, other people, and all of the baggage you all carry with you all over the continent. The world is yours, and now you get to bring other people along with you (and we all know road trips are more fun with other people).
So where am I going with this?
Based on experiences in my own life, and because of things my younger siblings are dealing with, I've been thinking a lot about how the Lord often asks us to trust Him and give up something that we love, and what happens when we do.
Have you ever tried to get a kid to give up his favorite toy long enough for you to give him something new? When they're young, they only really understand what's in front of them, and they don't realize that you're about to give them something better, so giving that toy up is the end of their happiness, at least from their perspective. Our first loves, the things and people that make us feel as though the world will end if we give them up, those are our little toy cars. They are amazing, and they help us imagine great things and chase big dreams. But they may not be able to carry us very far in life. So the Lord asks us to trust Him enough to let Him give us something that will increase our ability to progress.
As time goes on and this process repeats, with the vehicle getting better each time, we begin to see the bigger picture. We begin to understand that He's asking it back each time for a good reason. Something better is in store. And so, each time He asks, we give the vehicle back a little more willingly, having learned from experience that the Lord never downgrades us to something less than we've given up. Eventually, we may end up with a fleet of jets at our disposal, carrying hundreds and thousands of other lives closer to our Father. But before we can get there, WE HAVE TO GIVE UP THE TOY CAR.
Now, I recognize that this is not a perfect metaphor for all aspects of life. But I think it does apply beautifully to the principle of sacrifice as I've come to understand it. Whether I've given up a relationship, a job opportunity, or some other goal or dream because the Lord has guided me down a path that didn't allow for that particular thing, I've come to realize that I always end up with something better than what I've given up and that I've come further in life than I might have otherwise. A bike can carry you across the country if you're patient and smart, but a car will do it much faster with a much heavier load, and a jet even more so. If you cling to your "bike," you'll get to the same place eventually, but it may take longer (and you run a greater risk of giving up out of fatigue before getting there), and you may not be able to touch as many other lives and bring them along with you.When we put our lives in the Lord's hands, I completely believe that He increases our capacity to bear burdens and help others and speeds up our own progress at the same time.
I can't begin to count the number of times this has happened to me. When I was 12, my family moved away, taking me away from my two best friends (one of whom I had a crush on). I honestly thought my world was ending and that I'd never find friends as good as the ones I'd left behind. But then, when I was 14, I met the girl who would eventually become as close to me as my own sister and who, now, 12 years later, is still a person I can count on to love me no matter what. When I graduated from college and finished my internship with the Ensign, I wanted nothing in the world more than to work for the Church for the rest of my life. "What could be better?" I asked myself. It was definitely a worthy goal, and a very clear way to use my professional skills to build the Lord's kingdom. But after a long stretch of contract work, every opportunity for full-time work for the Church closed in my face. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get a job in the one place I thought I wanted to be. Then my current job came along. Among the many perks and blessings that this job has given me, one of the coolest is that I have the freedom to transfer among any of the 90+ offices in the country or work from home: my world just got a lot bigger. I can go anywhere with a lot more freedom now because I can take my job (and all of those other perks and benefits!) with me wherever I go.
It can be so hard to give up something that we love (whether it's a relationship, a job, a home, a hobby, or any other dream or passion). The heartbreak we suffer when we do is so very real. And sometimes, when the Lord asks us to give up something that He gave us and pushed us toward in the first place, the feelings of heartbreak and betrayal can be devastating. But He always does it with a good reason. I'm young, yes, but it has happened enough in my own life that I know that it's true.
So, as you face course changes, redirected paths, and surrendered dreams, have courage. Your Heavenly Father will never make you suffer needlessly. Inside every painful sacrifice is the seed of your own success and ultimate happiness.
