The Task He Gave by Elva Oakman 

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"Oh, God, forgive me," she cried aloud. "The task You gave me I left undone.
If only I could live my life again, how different my days would be."
But as she prayed, she saw that the lost years could never be restored. 


by Elva Oakman


Once upon a time—a long, long while ago—there was a beautiful little home with a lovely garden. In the garden were lark-spurs, sweet peas, forget-me-nots, roses, and holly-hocks, with a smooth, green lawn for a background. Within the home lived a mother, a father, a boy, and
a girl. The boy had seen four summers and winters pass, while the girl had seen only two; but they were very happy together; that is, unless there was only one rake, or one pail, or one stick to play with. And then, of course, there was noise.

The mother was a clever woman. She could sing, play the organ, teach church school classes, preside over meetings, and even bake wonderful pies, cakes, and cookies when they were needed. She could drive a car, and sometimes—well, really quite often—she worked in the shop as a seamstress to make a few extra dollars. The house was paid for; but even if it hadn't been, the father was a good provider and could have paid for it in time. The extra money went for better furniture, newer clothing, and toys for the children.

This was a very modern home with a very modern mother, and the children were very modern, too. The mother did take time out to go to church, however, and to prayer meeting, and to the women's department meetings, and to the clubs for the betterment of the group, and to all the activities that the Church put on. Yes, indeed, she was most devoted to the Church.

Once in her youth the "Angel of Clear Vision" had visited her. As she had talked with him, her eyes had been opened to perceive some of the mysteries of the Kingdom. She had heard his voice saying, "If you would walk with the Master, you must put Him first in all things. As you give of your best to accomplish the work that He will give you, you shall find great joy; and your closing years shall shine in the beauty of peace and assurance."

And so this mother tried always to do everything she was asked to do. Because so many were glad to let her do much of the work, she did more and more as the years went by. Because she had been told to give of her best, she attended all the institutes and read all the books that were suggested as well. Then she spent hours in preparing her church school lessons for teaching in the most approved fashion.

The little boy and girl were really no hindrance to her in her work. With the additional toys she provided, there were always enough for two. And so they played nicely together—summers in the garden, winters in the basement. Well, at least they usually played nicely together; and if they didn't, they fought it out until little sister was put in her place. The children were most always clean and tidy and always went to the doctor and the dentist at the proper time. Truly theirs was a remarkable mother. As she dressed them in the morning, she taught them their nursery rhymes; and as she put them to bed, she told them the very best fairy tales. In the evening she always hired a baby sitter to stay with them so they wouldn't be alone. And they always said their prayers.

Now and then some of the leaders of the women's department and even some of the ministers suggested that a woman's place should be first in the home with her children, teaching for the Master, with her Church work coming next in importance. When these suggestions were given, the mother did not often hear them—for she was busy planning her activities for the following day. When she did listen, she rejoiced within her soul that such ability had been given her that she was able to work in the Church as well as in the home. It was all just a matter of organization, she thought to herself.

Years passed, and the children grew up. Sometimes they had their fun in their own home, and sometimes in the homes of others. Now that they were old enough to choose their own course, on Sunday they often went with their friends to another church—or more often did not go to any church—for there were so many other places they really needed to go. In time they went away to college and were married. When they returned home for a visit, the radio was dialed to the loudest jazz, and the air was blue with cigarette smoke. Their children ran riot every day, including the Sabbath day, and could not seem to be controlled.

And thus it was in the quietness of old age, the mother paused to review her life as she mourned over her family. Surely she had not found great joy. Her work for the Master was a thankless task, although she had given her best. The people at the church and in the civic organizations to which she belonged lauded her and called her "The Faithful." But her heart was heavy with burdens, for where she now longed most to serve she could not.

The words, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:29) came to her with gentle insistence. She paused in her work and knelt with tear-filled eyes to lay her burdens at the Master's feet. "Lord, have I not served Thee with vigor through all my days?" she questioned sadly. "How is it that my heart is bowed in sorrow now, and my loved ones have wandered far?"

Again the "Angel of Clear Vision" was sent. He spoke gently, first in reminder: "Were you not told that 'If you would walk with the Master, you must put Him first in all things. As you give of your best to accomplish the work that He will give you, you shall find great joy; and your closing years shall shine in the beauty of peace and assurance'?"

"The work He will give you." The words repeated themselves again and again in her heart. She saw the wee boy and the baby girl who had come from the Master Himself. She saw them playing together in the yard, laughing over the Mother Goose rhymes she had taught them, acting out Red Riding Hood and the Little Red Hen. She saw them going to school and learning again those jingles and stories. She saw them being taught other stories by the children with whom they played. Only on Sunday they had heard of the Master. They laughed about that, too, as another story of the unseen fairy world. Yes, they'd had a good time at church. But the world had called much louder, and they had no foundations. And so it was the world claimed its own.

So great was her sorrow and the darkness about her that she sank down in utter despair. "Oh, God, forgive me," she cried aloud. "The task You gave me I left undone. Is there no way that I can make restitution? Their sin is mine. I chose my own course, not Thine; and they have paid the price."

From afar there came to her ears the words of the prophet of old, "There is a way which seemeth right unto a man; but the end thereof are the ways of death. Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it" (Proverbs 14:12; 22:6).

"Train up a child in the way he should go!"

"Forgive me, Lord," she pleaded silently once more. "I have quoted those verses to others many times, but I did not comprehend. If only I could live my life again, how different my days would be." She was crying softly now in utter humility.

"I thought it necessary only to take the children to the church on Sunday and to see that they said their prayers each night. The rest I expected You to do."

For a long time the mother sat in deep thought; and then, as her understanding deepened, she knelt again to pray. This time it was a promise she made the Lord, that gladly she would give up all her material possessions and all her time if only some way she could help her dear ones to really know the Master and His love.

As she prayed, she saw that the lost years could never be restored. But if she would work at the Master's side, under His guidance and with His love in her heart, exercising always the greatest patience and never neglecting an opportunity to teach her dear ones for Him, the day would come when they would join her in His work.

And in her last days the beautiful little home became beautiful indeed; for daily as her grandchildren played within her walls, she taught them those things that were of greatest worth. And daily as the young mother and the young father came to get them, they, too, heard the gospel story and came to love it as the children did. Ere her work was ended, her children and her children"s children walked with the Master, and her days were filled with joy and peace and assurance. 

Reprinted from
The Saints' Herald
September 18, 1950