I am the 1%

There's been a lot of talk in the media this year about the 99% and the 1%.

 I am the 1%, but I'm not rich and this isn't about taxes.

Those two numbers?  We've heard them before.  Matthew 18 and Luke 15, in the New Testament.  A man has 100 sheep and one gets lost.  99 are just fine, and safe, but one is wandering lost and afraid.  Wouldn't that man go in search of the one that is lost?  Isn't that one just as important as the other 99?

I think I'm going to form a club; Mormons with Mental Illness.  Sometimes we're lost and sometimes we're found.  Our testimonies come and go.  Darkness envelopes us as often as the light does, maybe more so.

Or maybe I can't speak for everyone with a mental illness, maybe I should only speak for myself.  After all, I'm referring to myself as the "one" that is lost.

I don't really fit in.  I make public mistakes, I am so outspoken that I hurt people's feelings, I avoid opportunities for service because I'm afraid I'll fail or let someone down, or I just don't have the energy to get out of bed to do them.  I can be sacrilegious and hypocritical in public, and then I berate myself in private for not being perfect.  Sometimes I'm proud to speak about how my illness has actually strengthened me, but most times I'm ashamed of it, as if it were something I brought on myself through personal choices.

I've had powerful spiritual experiences that have strengthened me, uplifted me, and sustained me through some very dark moments, and years.  I've also embraced the fear, anger, resentment, bitterness, sadness, and hopelessness that presses in on me every day and I've pulled the covers back over my head and shut out the light because I didn't want it, even though it wanted me.

During all the media coverage over these past months talking about the divide in our country, and the 99% vs. the 1%, I've thought of this parable in the scriptures EVERY time.  I can't hear those two numbers together without thinking of the Savior.  Knowing myself to be the one that is lost, and sometimes the one that chooses to be lost and stay lost, it's been good for me to have these constant reminders, coming to me in a very unusual way.  It's good for me to be reminded that the Savior is always looking for me, waiting for me, preparing to help me even if I come back injured or broken.  Even when I don't want Him to find me, He won't stop looking.

Today I feel found, but there's a good chance I'll run away from home again tomorrow.  Thank goodness He knows my favorite places to hide.