Last night I took my dad to the St. George Tabernacle to watch a bluegrass performance. As we approached the building, my dad leaned over to me and asked if he should take his hat off. I replied, “No, you don’t need to.” We entered the historic building and wound our way to the balcony and found our seats.
As I am scanning my new surroundings, I glance over and see his hat resting in his lap. He removed it as we entered the building anyway, his matted silver head vulnerable and exposed.
I didn’t ask him to do it, or tell him he needed to – nobody required it of him, and nobody would have corrected him had he not. He simply choose to do it out of respect. Respect for what, though? Respect for an old building? Respect for the people around him at the performance? Respect for all of the people who worked hard and sacrificed to allow for the building to be constructed and used? Respect for the reverence a venue like that emits? Yes! Yes, to all of the above. His gesture of respect was an offering. An offering that showed his availability to the Spirit.
The Book of Mormon suggests that our offering to our Savior is no longer that of animal sacrifice etc, but that of a broken heart and a contrite spirit. A contrite spirit is one that is willing to do anything the Lord asks. My dad wasn’t asked, but he offered his small gesture anyway.
Respect comes in many forms, some are more easily seen and recognized – like standing as the flag is presented and the National Anthem is sang at a sporting event. But many are smaller, less recognizable gestures. All of them are offerings that will allow our hearts to feel the tender love our Savior has for His children. All of them are recognized by the Lord.
I find my heart swell and grow with love for my dad as, again, he teaches me more of what love really is. It is kindness. It is offering without any expectation of receiving something in return. It is giving before being asked, giving simply because it is your desire to give. It is gentle and it is consistent and it is stable.
I offer a humble prayer of thanksgiving in my heart to my Heavenly Father for blessing me with such a man in my life to lead me in the ways that he does as I watch my father’s matted, silver, exposed head bow in preparation for the event’s opening prayer.
I am forever grateful.
