Let Your Light So Shine

LET YOUR LIGHT SO SHINE

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.                                                                               Matthew 5:16

Jeremiah was just out of high school, working in a WallyWorld warehouse, saving money for his mission. Colleen, a slightly older co-worker, approached him out of the blue one day and remarked, “Hey dude, you ever swear? I’ve never heard you swear.”

“I try not to.”

“I think that’s so cool! I swear - - - a lot, too much.”

Jeremiah had noticed, but wisely refrained from letting on.

“Could you help me quit swearing?”

That took him aback; no one other than Church members had ever before made him aware that people noticed his efforts to live the gospel. “Sure,” he answered hesitantly, “But how?”

“Just talk to me every day, ask me how I’m doing.”

“I can do that – so, how are you doing?”

“Terrible. Just *^#@ terrible. Oops.”

“Hey, I’ll catch ya tomorrow. You’ll have a better report by then, right?”

“Hope so. See ya.”

They ran into each other on break. “How ya doin’ since I saw ya last?”

“Only swore a coupla times the rest of the day at work. But last night it was another story. My sister *^# . . . made me so mad! I haven’t slipped up so far today, though. Almost did right then.”

“Think you can make it a whole day?”

“I don’t know . . . I’ll give it a shot.”

The next day Colleen found Jeremiah first thing. “Only once since I saw ya.”

“Congratulations. Make it a whole day and I’ll buy you a Snickers at break.”

“How’d you know they’re my favorite! You’re on, bro.”

And so it went. Some setbacks, but overall the intervals between relapses kept getting longer: a whole day, half a week, an entire week. Then . . .

“Jeremiah, hey Jer! Today’s the first of the month and I’m here to tell you I didn’t say one bad word all last month! I’m so @#%^* happy!”

Jeremiah wasn’t the only one who had been noticing. Norman, painfully shy around girls, still single, college graduate, returned missionary, and warehouse bean counter, was becoming more and more aware of Colleen’s changing countenance. He somehow mustered the courage to ask her if she would be so kind as to allow him to escort her to the company’s upcoming Christmas party.

“You mean like a date?”

Well, I wouldn’t say that . . . but I thought maybe we could ride together . . .”

“That, buddy, is what I call a date.”

“ ‘Course if you don’t want to, I’ll see ya there . . .”

“Pick me up at 8. And don’t be late.”

(Chantilly lace and a pretty face and a ponytail hangin’ down . . .)

That went so well that he soon asked her if she’d be interested in going to church with him.

“Are you kiddin’? I thought you’d never ask! But this isn’t a date. Goin’ to church isn’t a date. You’re just givin’ me a ride to church, right?”

Norman was catching on. He looked at his shoes, then without moving his head, he rolled one eye up to the top of its socket so he could see her. “R i i i ght!”

That went so well that, when the time was right, he asked her if she’d take the missionary discussions.

“You mean those guys with the white shirts and nametags and bicycles? Why don’t you just teach me?”

“’Cuz you’d think it was a date.”

The lessons went so well that Mary asked Norman if he would baptize her.

No wisecracks this time – he’d be honored.

And that went so well that, in due time, he asked her if she would accompany him to the temple.

“You mean like a date . . . for eternity?”

(A wiggle when ya walk and a giggle when ya talk, makes the world go round, round, round . . .)

Soon after the honeymoon Mary stood up to bear her testimony. The tears came when she began expressing her gratitude for Jeremiah.