When my oldest daughter turned one and my maternity leave ended, I started teaching piano lessons out of our home.  This opportunity has been an adventure to say the least!  I have had many rewarding experiences interspersed with a few “pull your hair out moments” here and there.  But what I did not foresee at the beginning of this journey was the number of times that my students would in fact be teaching me. 

Each week I review flashcards, practice scales and patiently listen to “Mary had a Little Lamb” yet once again – all while attempting to refine these sweet little musicians and their budding skills.  However, each week as I sit on my old wooden chair with chipped white pain next to the piano and teach these incredible youth, I find my own abilities and character refined in the process. 

A few years ago, I had the privilege of teaching a boy named Carter.  When my husband and I were first married we lived in the basement suite of Carter’s parent’s house and were always thoroughly entertained by his adventurous spirit and almost daily shenanigans.  Needless to say – Carter and I go way back. 

One Wednesday afternoon, Carter came to his lesson and played his piece with exceptional gusto!  As the keys of the final chord were struck, I clapped enthusiastically and told him the song sounded great. 

“Now” I added encouragingly, “did you try practicing the song with the pedal?”

“I did once” he replied, “but it didn’t sound that good.”

 “Oh, why not?” I questioned

He thought for a moment then responded, “well, I didn’t take my roller blades off, so maybe that’s why.”

My heart swelled – only Carter could be so honest in his confession.  “It’s hard to do two things at once isn’t it?” I reassured him.  “Let’s try it again today . . . this time without the roller blades”.

Since that time, I have often thought of Carter playing the piano with his roller blades on and wondered – do I do the exact same thing?

Do I try to play with pedal while still wearing my roller blades? 

Do I try to do the things my Father in Heaven has asked of me while not fully letting go of the things I want?

Carter wasn’t doing anything wrong by rollerblading.  I picture him zipping around the yard, chasing cats and playing tag with his siblings – he was having fun.  The challenge for Carter then and for each of us now is the eternal principle of giving up something good for something better. . .

It is the principle of sacrifice.   

It required sacrifice for Carter to remove his roller blades in order to come inside and practice.  It was much easier to just leave them on so he could go back to his rollerblading immediately after.  Sometimes I fear that I approach repentance in this same way – I’m not quite ready to give up my “rollerblades” just yet.  I’ll do what Heavenly Father asks me to do . . . but I’m not ready to let go of the things I want at the same time.  And so, I pedal on while wearing my rollerblades.  This way of playing our song is in a word – ineffective.  It doesn’t create lasting change nor does it allow us to grow and improve in the ways the Lord would have us. 

Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught that the only way to offer our whole souls to God is “by sacrificing anything that’s holding us back and consecrating the rest to the Lord and His purposes”. 

So, what is holding us back? 

What is keeping us from playing our song with pedal and fully enjoying all of the incredible blessings our Father has in store for us? 

What are the rollerblades you are reluctant to remove?

The answer to that question looks very different for each one of us.  Honestly, I feel like I have a different pair of roller blades for every day of the week . . . fear, selfishness, pride, anger, exhaustion . . . the list could go on and on.  It’s not that I want to be a fearful, prideful or selfish person, it’s that to stop doing fearful, prideful or selfish things, or in other words – to sacrifice what I want requires effort. 

It can be hard. 

And sometimes it almost seems easier to just leave the rollerblades on while I come inside to practice so that I can go right back to what I was doing before. 

It is in these trials of faith that we must remember the words that our beloved Prophet President Nelson has taught us repeatedly, that “the Lord loves effort!”

So how do we sacrifice? 

How do we take off our rollerblades that are holding us back and play our song the way it was meant to be played?  We turn to the One who sacrificed all in order to play the song perfectly in the end.  We turn to Jesus Christ, the master teacher and we follow him. 

It takes practice. 

It takes effort. 

But he who patiently sits by our side and listens to us play the same mistakes day after day, week after week loves us infinitely and has given us the perfect lesson plan to follow.  As we play arpeggios of righteousness and scales of obedience, the chords of the gospel harmony will ring beautifully in our lives.  We will come to love our Savior in a deep and abiding way that creates in us a desire to give all that we are back to him. 

We will want to play with pedal. 

We will want to take off the rollerblades. 

My dear young friend Carter is no longer a piano student of mine and stands several inches taller than me.  He has become a young man and has a faith and a testimony that I admire greatly.  I don’t know if he remembers any of the piano lessons I taught him, but I will always remember the lesson he taught me – the day he tried to play the pedal with his rollerblades on.