A Lesson from the Dove

I noticed the dove on the front lawn one morning after a night of intermittent thunderstorms. Fully aware of my approach, she regarded me, cocking her head from side to side, her small black eyes fixed on me. As I drew closer I saw beneath her outstretched wings two small balls of grey fluff, streaked with white. Two more lay nearby--the rise and fall of the little birds’ bodies evidence that they were newly hatched and very much alive. Suddenly, the dove flew off, a low flight, with wings flapping awkwardly, appearing, it seemed, to abandon the young birds. Minutes later she was perched on the palm tree above. It was then I saw the nest of twigs and leaves. From above, she watched, looking down upon her small offspring, waiting to use whatever defense she could employ to protect them.

A dove will hover over her young, protecting them from danger, leading away prey with a pretense of a broken wing, watching from her nest above, preparing to swoop down upon any predator, until the young have gathered strength enough to fly. It may be days before the tiny doves can lift their wings and find freedom in the skies. The dove responds intuitively, without hesitation to her role. Both nurturing and protecting, there is this simplistic but powerful submission to her place in God’s creation.

There are, perhaps, lessons from the morning dove, which are applicable in our lives as mothers and teachers. Do we submit to our stewardships with such vigilance and care? Do we recognize the dangers that may befall our family because we allow ourselves a higher view from our own personal scripture study, prayers and temple attendance? Are we courageous enough to resist what is simply not holy or even eternally meaningful? Elder M. Russell Ballard has said, “Satan knows that the surest and most effective way to disrupt the Lord’s work is to diminish the effectiveness of the family and the sanctity of the home.” Conversely, our Savior knows the surest and most effective way to bring each of His Father’s children to an eternal home. “It is our sacred responsibility as parents and leaders of this rising generation of children to bring them to the Savior so that they might see His face and the face of our Father in Heaven as well,” Sister Cheryl C. Lant wrote, “As we do so, we also bring ourselves.”

There have been times when my heart has been outstretched like the wings of the dove, where I have watched and waited patiently, hopefully, both nurturing and protecting in the Lord's way. At times it has come at great personal sacrifice, but as I have watched and waited for my children to gain strength in their own testimonies, I have come to understand that this is what God is asking of me, often without fanfare, without recognition, without affirmation from the world. The effort will have been worth it if, I might some day, with my children, see the face of the Savior and together we find our way Home.

A Beginning

We started a family blog a few years ago which is largely unused. There is a bit of a sadness there for me as I look back on past entries and realize how much the connections meant to me. At some point in the midst of the family blog--Wallace Family News--I changed the name to "The Smallest Part" and made an entry about my resistance to blogging, but also my desire to write that my children (and those I love) may be persuaded to "believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God" (2 Nephi 25:23). I also briefly mentioned the scripture which is the inspiration for the title of this blog.

I have set up this blog, apart from Wallace Family News--which can still be found at http://azwallaces.blogspot.com/ The primary purpose of this blog is for my daughters--both biological and honorary. What follows are the musings of the day about the title of the blog and my hopes as I share my heart with each of you.

I love the stories of Ammon in The Book of Mormon, not simply because he is an example of being softly courageous in the face of King Lamoni, but because he first and foremost allows his story to be told at the beginning---the beginning of his wrestle with the adversary, his wrestle with weakness, even his wrestle with sin. Ammon’s story is told with unflinching honesty. Numbered as one of the unbelievers along with his brothers and Alma, the younger, they systematically went about “stealing away the hearts of the people; causing much dissension among the people; giving a chance of the enemy of God to exercise his power over them; . . . and seeking to destroy the church” (Mosiah 27:9-10). When once converted he, along with his brothers and Alma, the younger, sought “zealously . . . to repair all the injuries which they had done to the church, confessing all their sins . . . and explaining the prophecies and the scriptures to all who desired to hear them” (Mosiah 27:34-35). I love the stories of Ammon for this reason as well: the Lord is gently and infinitely merciful to all of His children who seek after Him regardless of past broken covenants on our part. Evidence of such mercy is found later in Ammon’s rejoicing with his brethren as he reflected upon the blessings God granted them, including the blessing of being an “instrument” in His hands to bring souls—even Lamanite souls--to Christ, a direct reversal of “stealing away the hearts of the [Nephite] people.” Ammon’s testimony of bringing “sheaves to the garners” after much personal tribulation (Alma 26:5) is a beautiful echo of the psalmist who wrote, “He that goeth forth and weepest, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him” (Psalms 126:6). And then in the greatest sense of humility, Ammon writes, “. . . we glory in the Lord; yea, we will rejoice, for our joy is full; yea, we will praise our God forever . . . Behold, I say unto you, I cannot say the smallest part which I feel” (Alma 16:16).

Some time ago I thought about a forum for my thoughts, my wonderings and wanderings, particularly through life’s spiritual journey. I tried with some carefulness to think about what that forum might contain, and more importantly, for whom those thoughts might be written. I have repeatedly come back to the stories of Ammon, to be softly courageous, unflinchingly honest, zealous in repairing injury, and desirous to bring those I love—sheaves, if you will—to Christ. I have felt that what I send forth, sometimes with tears, must be the “precious seeds” of truth as I strive to be an instrument in His hands. I hope the words might be offered with compassion and humility, for like Ammon, “I cannot say the smallest part which I feel.”