You Should Pray About This

I had this experience when I was a young wife and mother.

I hope my youth at the time can be counted as

some measure of excuse for my folly.

But looking back, I still treasure the

lesson I learned “the hard way” and at such expense.

We had one baby and a new house.

It had the ugliest flocked fleur-de-lis wallpaper of all time, and

deep orange shag carpet to go with its avocado green appliances,

but it was ours and we loved it.

I would strip the wallpaper myself (quelle horreur!)

and slowly make the changes that brought the house more into line

with my up-to-date 80’s aesthetic.

Hours and Hours

(Cute legs, eh?)

It was a happy day when we had finally saved enough money

to think about replacing that orange shag carpet.

I’m not sure how I heard about the Saver’s Warehouse.

Maybe a radio ad. But it seemed like just what we needed:

a membership club, whose fee would allow you to buy

carpet, furniture, appliances, etc.,

for dealer’s cost plus 10%.

If we bought our carpet from them

we would save more than double the 600$ cost of the membership.

I went to their warehouse on a Tuesday.

The salesman showed me all the carpet sample books and before long

I was drooling over catalogues of new appliances as well.

This seemed like such a good deal.

Couldn't wait to get rid of this!

I left with a fist full of brochures and a contract to fill out.

It was on the drive home that I heard the Little Voice in my head.

“You should pray about this.”

I talked back to the voice.

“It’s obviously a good deal and just what we need right now. It adds up.

Some things are just plain good sense. You don’t need to pray about everything!”

My logic didn’t seem to sway the Little Voice.

“You really should pray about this.”

The fact that I was drooling should have been a clue. It’s called lust.

I think I also must have resented the implicit questioning 

of my good judgment. 

I had never made a “business decision” like this one before.

In fact, I had never spent 600$ dollars before.

And I knew what I was doing, thank you.

So I joined. I talked my sweet husband into it,

assuring him that we would

more than make up the money in the very next week.

I turned in my check on Wednesday.

On Friday I called up the salesman to ask a question.

The phone rang and rang.

Finally on Saturday, I drove over to see why no one was picking up the phone. The parking lot was empty. There was a sign on the door. It was a letter from a lawyer’s office with an address for people to send their claims to. The place was in bankruptcy. I stood there in shock.



Finally I wrote down the address of the lawyer’s office and went home. Somehow I knew that I wouldn’t be getting my 600$ back. I was at the very back of the line, wasn’t I?

600$ was a fortune to us then.

How I dreaded telling my poor husband what his brilliant wife had done!

The truth of Nephi’s words in 2 Nephi 32 resonated in my mind.

“Ye must not perform any thing unto the Lord save in the first place ye shall pray unto the Father… that he will consecrate thy performance unto thee, that thy performance may be for the welfare of thy soul.” (32:9)

Why wouldn't the Lord want to bless my efforts to beautify my home? I was seeking to magnify my calling as a homemaker and that was a worthy goal. I remembered the words of a religion professor:

“If it matters to you, it matters to Him.”

I could have asked for protection and guidance over my efforts to decorate my home. That is precisely what I had needed.

It was just my silly pride that had prevented me. I was like a little two year old who wanted to do it “mine own self!”

The Inner Me

And the worst part was that I had to face The Voice.

 I had to get on my knees and confess my stubbornness and foolishness.

But lo and behold, the Lord’s promises work there too. For when we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins.” (John 1:9)

As I prayed I felt God’s love and comfort even as I felt his correction,

for He chasteneth whom He loveth.

I felt Him say, “See. I am trying to help you. Trust Me. You’ll do better next time.”

And I'm working on it.