“But the Lord knoweth all things from the beginning; wherefore, he prepareth a way to accomplish all his works…for behold, he hath all power unto the fulfilling of all his words. And thus it is. Amen.” (1 Nephi 9:6)
I love it when the Book of Mormon reminds us that the Lord knows all and can do all, provide all. In this case, He’s providing a replacement for the parts of the Book of Mormon that Joseph Smith will lose thousands of years later. If He can do that, He can certainly orchestrate all the little ups and downs of my life.
Some people believe that God only intervenes in these big things—things that will affect large groups of people or that will alter the course of history. And the little things that ‘seem’ to show the Lord’s hand working in our daily lives, the little miracles we ascribe to Him, are merely coincidence.
I just can’t believe that. That smacks of deism—the philosophy that God created the world, set it in motion and then just sat back to watch it all play out. That has no place in LDS theology. If that were true, why would God have us pray over all the things in our lives?
“Cry unto him…over all your flocks…your household…your enemies…crops…fields… (Alma 34:18-27)
“Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good.” (Alma 37:37)
(Notice the word “all”?)
Only a cruel and heartless being would tell us to pray, knowing full well it would have no effect. Only a bully says to beg for mercy while never intending to bestow it. I cannot believe that God is a cruel and heartless bully.
God is active in our lives. He tells us to pray so that He can bless us.
We may not know why God asks us to do certain things that seem meaningless to us, but we do them because we trust that He sees a bigger picture than we do. We trust that He holds the entire plan in His mind, while we can only grasp our little portion of it.
This trust is also the answer to the harder question: If God is all powerful and merciful, how can He allow bad things to happen? How can He allow evil acts that harm the innocent, handicaps, illness, death?
I don’t know. I don’t even presume to guess. But this is what I do know. God is kind and benevolent. He is omniscient and all powerful. Therefore, I have to trust that the terrible things of this world happen for reasons that are just beyond the scope of my mortal vision and comprehension.
I also know that when terrible things happen in our lives, God does not just sit back and watch us struggle through our ‘learning experience.’ He doesn’t say, “I know it hurts right now, but you’ll thank me for it later.”
God is right there in the trenches of pain and heartache with us, holding a huge First Aid Kit filled with bandages, salve and spiritual pain killers. But the kit it locked and we are the ones holding the key. We have to turn to the Lord, pray the ‘magic words’ of repentance and faith and humility, and then the kit pops open and the healing spills out and upon us. Until we provide the key of faith, all God can do is stand there, holding the kit, trying to get our attention.
Friday, February 17, 2006
My 'Ministry' (1 Nephi 9:4-5)
“these plates are for the more part of the ministry;…Wherefore the Lord hath commanded me to make these plates for a wise purpose in him, which purpose I know not.” (1 Nephi 9:4-5)
This blog is like my small plates. I take the more spiritual parts of my journals and post them here. This is my ‘ministry.’ I haven’t been called to proselyte. I haven’t been asked to preach from the pulpit. But I do feel like the Lord has asked me to share these thoughts here, in this forum. I feels…right.
I don’t know for sure why I am doing this, although I have guesses. But the Lord may have another or several other specific purposes for this that I don’t know anything about. And that is just fine. I am happy to do this, to bear my testimony in this manner.
This blog is like my small plates. I take the more spiritual parts of my journals and post them here. This is my ‘ministry.’ I haven’t been called to proselyte. I haven’t been asked to preach from the pulpit. But I do feel like the Lord has asked me to share these thoughts here, in this forum. I feels…right.
I don’t know for sure why I am doing this, although I have guesses. But the Lord may have another or several other specific purposes for this that I don’t know anything about. And that is just fine. I am happy to do this, to bear my testimony in this manner.
The Tree or the Building (1 Nephi 8:26-33)
You’d think that after partaking of the fruit of the tree, everyone would love it and never leave.
That is not so. While some understood the preciousness of the tree and the fruit and stood nearby, beckoning to others to join them, others did not. Some people are distracted and fall away. Some people are ashamed because of the mocking of others. Some won’t even come near the tree, preferring instead to go straight over to that great and spacious building filled with those who mock and point their fingers.
Years ago, after reading this section, I stopped long enough to wonder which group of people I might be in. I’m not going to tell you what I discovered about myself. I will just say that I am in a different group now.
I am not where I want to be, but I am closer to behaving like Lehi and Nephi—unashamed and inviting others to partake. I pray for the courage to be more like them, to be able to say to the world, “Here I am. Here is what I believe. And I don’t care who knows it or what they think about it.”
That is not so. While some understood the preciousness of the tree and the fruit and stood nearby, beckoning to others to join them, others did not. Some people are distracted and fall away. Some people are ashamed because of the mocking of others. Some won’t even come near the tree, preferring instead to go straight over to that great and spacious building filled with those who mock and point their fingers.
Years ago, after reading this section, I stopped long enough to wonder which group of people I might be in. I’m not going to tell you what I discovered about myself. I will just say that I am in a different group now.
I am not where I want to be, but I am closer to behaving like Lehi and Nephi—unashamed and inviting others to partake. I pray for the courage to be more like them, to be able to say to the world, “Here I am. Here is what I believe. And I don’t care who knows it or what they think about it.”
The Iron Rod (1 Nephi 8:8-30)
There is an iron rod along the straight and narrow path leading to the tree of life. There are people walking on this path, holding to the rod. Before they get to the tree, they must go through mists of darkness. Many lose their way.
It’s reasonable to think that some might lose their way in the mists of darkness. Even if you’re holding on to the iron rod (I imagine it like a stair railing), what if you trip or stumble and lose your grip? Lost in the darkness, how are you to ever find your way back? That has always seemed unfair to me.
A few years ago, I found a new understanding of this part of the analogy. If one holds to the iron rod lightly, at arm’s length like you might do with a stair rail, it’s easy to lose your grip if you falter or fall. But imagine instead that as you walk along that path, you keep your body glued smack up against that rod. And rather than just brushing the rod with your fingertips, holding it lightly, you’ve got that rod in a death grip, moving along, hand over hand, never releasing one handhold until the other is firmly in place. If that were the case, it wouldn’t matter how thick the mists of darkness became or how frequently you tripped or stumbled. You’d have a death grip—or in this case, a life grip—on that thing! If that were the case, you’d make it to the tree no matter what.
The iron rod is the word of God—the scriptures, the prophets, personal revelation. If your study of the scriptures is occasional or casual, your hold to them may not be strong enough to see you through the temptations and trials of this life. But if you search them daily, deeply pondering their meaning, if you seek the Holy Spirit to liken them unto yourself, if you hear and obey the prophet’s voice, there will be nothing in this life that is strong enough to make you lose your way.
That is what it means to “press forward, continually holding fast to the rod of iron, until they came forth and fell down and partook of the fruit of the tree.” (1 Nephi 8:30)
It’s reasonable to think that some might lose their way in the mists of darkness. Even if you’re holding on to the iron rod (I imagine it like a stair railing), what if you trip or stumble and lose your grip? Lost in the darkness, how are you to ever find your way back? That has always seemed unfair to me.
A few years ago, I found a new understanding of this part of the analogy. If one holds to the iron rod lightly, at arm’s length like you might do with a stair rail, it’s easy to lose your grip if you falter or fall. But imagine instead that as you walk along that path, you keep your body glued smack up against that rod. And rather than just brushing the rod with your fingertips, holding it lightly, you’ve got that rod in a death grip, moving along, hand over hand, never releasing one handhold until the other is firmly in place. If that were the case, it wouldn’t matter how thick the mists of darkness became or how frequently you tripped or stumbled. You’d have a death grip—or in this case, a life grip—on that thing! If that were the case, you’d make it to the tree no matter what.
The iron rod is the word of God—the scriptures, the prophets, personal revelation. If your study of the scriptures is occasional or casual, your hold to them may not be strong enough to see you through the temptations and trials of this life. But if you search them daily, deeply pondering their meaning, if you seek the Holy Spirit to liken them unto yourself, if you hear and obey the prophet’s voice, there will be nothing in this life that is strong enough to make you lose your way.
That is what it means to “press forward, continually holding fast to the rod of iron, until they came forth and fell down and partook of the fruit of the tree.” (1 Nephi 8:30)
God Does Not Act at Random
“The Lord never created this world at random; he has never done any of his work
at random.” (Teachings of Wilford Woodruff, p27)
I am part of the Lord’s work. That means that nothing about me, nothing about my life, is random. I am part of His plan.
“Let us increase continually in faith, in hope, in righteousness, and in every
virtuous principle which is necessary for us to have to sustain us in every
trial through which we may be called to pass in order to prove us as friends of
God.” (Teachings, p33; emphasis added)
Now that’s an interesting thought. We pass through trials in order to prove ourselves friends of God. I’ve always known that trials are to prove our commitment, our testimony, our obedience to God. But to prove us as His friends??
That puts a whole new spin on things, doesn’t it?
The Test (1 Nephi 8:8-9)
Years ago, just after I was converted, life seemed full of promise. There were opening doors everywhere I looked. Then, as I began to live a life of commitment to the gospel, following Christ in earnest, one by one each of those doors slammed shut on me. I felt blocked at every turn. I lamented this to a friend who said, “Maybe you’re being tested.” I decided maybe I was, and I determined to pass the test.
That was 27 years ago. Then I thought the test was to endure and to get through ‘it’ however I could without losing my newfound faith. I passed that part of the test, but it was years before I thought to turn the page over to see if there was another part to the test.
And there was—a much more important part. This part of the test is much more than enduring to the end. This part was to find Christ and reach out to Him from the darkness and dreariness of the waste. To walk by the light while still in the dark. Lehi tells us how.
And the result of his prayer?
After Lehi prayed to the Lord for mercy, the rest of the vision started; the darkness lifted and he saw.
I wonder if he would have only traveled in the darkness for minutes, rather than hours, had he prayed sooner.
Twenty seven years ago, I didn’t think to pray for mercy. I only prayed for the strength to endure. And I did endure, but the burden was often heavy. I spent a lot of time stumbling around in the dark and dreary waste of my life. I still do sometimes, but it’s not nearly so difficult now because over the years I’ve learned to pass the other part of the test. I’ve learned to pray to the Lord for mercy.
So here’s what I believe. Life is basically a dark and dreary waste. We followed Christ in our premortal existence and we ended up here—in the darkness, in a world filled with wickedness, separated from God, and mightily confused.
We can travel around in that darkness, fumbling along, enduring under our own power, for as long as we choose to. This is hard. We trip over stuff and fall. We fall into pits we can’t get out of. We bark our shins against who knows what. And we become increasingly miserable in our situation.
But the moment we call out to the Lord for mercy, He turns on a light and shows us a path through the waste. He lifts us out of the pit, heals our cuts and bruises, and helps us avoid the obstacles and potholes. If we pay attention and stay in His light, we can avoid the worst of the journey—not because we won’t encounter obstacles and potholes, but because the Lord will help us over and through and around them.
Like a newbie climbing a mountain with an experienced guide, we still have to climb the mountain. Our muscles will strain and ache, but the guide teaches us what to watch out for, shows us the safest path, and provides bandages and salve for our scrapes and bruises and blisters. Having a guide makes the trek so much easier than stumbling around on our own, with no map, no path, no light. And eventually, by following the guide, we reach the top of the mountain where the view is spectacular and worth every step.
That was 27 years ago. Then I thought the test was to endure and to get through ‘it’ however I could without losing my newfound faith. I passed that part of the test, but it was years before I thought to turn the page over to see if there was another part to the test.
And there was—a much more important part. This part of the test is much more than enduring to the end. This part was to find Christ and reach out to Him from the darkness and dreariness of the waste. To walk by the light while still in the dark. Lehi tells us how.
After I traveled for the space of many hours in darkness [enduring it as best
he could under his own power], I began to pray unto the Lord that he would have
mercy on me, according to the multitude of his tender mercies. (1 Nephi 8:8)
And the result of his prayer?
and it came to pass after I had prayed unto the Lord, I beheld…” (v9)
After Lehi prayed to the Lord for mercy, the rest of the vision started; the darkness lifted and he saw.
I wonder if he would have only traveled in the darkness for minutes, rather than hours, had he prayed sooner.
Twenty seven years ago, I didn’t think to pray for mercy. I only prayed for the strength to endure. And I did endure, but the burden was often heavy. I spent a lot of time stumbling around in the dark and dreary waste of my life. I still do sometimes, but it’s not nearly so difficult now because over the years I’ve learned to pass the other part of the test. I’ve learned to pray to the Lord for mercy.
So here’s what I believe. Life is basically a dark and dreary waste. We followed Christ in our premortal existence and we ended up here—in the darkness, in a world filled with wickedness, separated from God, and mightily confused.
We can travel around in that darkness, fumbling along, enduring under our own power, for as long as we choose to. This is hard. We trip over stuff and fall. We fall into pits we can’t get out of. We bark our shins against who knows what. And we become increasingly miserable in our situation.
But the moment we call out to the Lord for mercy, He turns on a light and shows us a path through the waste. He lifts us out of the pit, heals our cuts and bruises, and helps us avoid the obstacles and potholes. If we pay attention and stay in His light, we can avoid the worst of the journey—not because we won’t encounter obstacles and potholes, but because the Lord will help us over and through and around them.
Like a newbie climbing a mountain with an experienced guide, we still have to climb the mountain. Our muscles will strain and ache, but the guide teaches us what to watch out for, shows us the safest path, and provides bandages and salve for our scrapes and bruises and blisters. Having a guide makes the trek so much easier than stumbling around on our own, with no map, no path, no light. And eventually, by following the guide, we reach the top of the mountain where the view is spectacular and worth every step.
Following Christ Into the Waste (1 Nephi 8:5-7)
Several years ago, a friend pointed out something interesting in these verses. This is Lehi’s dream. In the beginning of this dream, Lehi sees a man in a white robe—representing Christ—who told Lehi to follow Him. So Lehi does.
And where does he end up? In a dark and dreary waste!
We don’t expect that do we? I know I never did. When I follow Christ, life is ‘supposed’ to be happiness and light. The struggle is over and life is easier, better. Ha! Following Christ is like taking a ride on the wildest roller coaster imaginable—and then some.
And where does he end up? In a dark and dreary waste!
We don’t expect that do we? I know I never did. When I follow Christ, life is ‘supposed’ to be happiness and light. The struggle is over and life is easier, better. Ha! Following Christ is like taking a ride on the wildest roller coaster imaginable—and then some.
What Laman and Lemuel Can Teach Us About Being Righteous (1 Nephi 7:19-21)
We always think of Laman and Lemuel as evil—two rebellious, good-for-nothings. Always were, always will be. Beyond hope, beyond the reach of the Spirit.
But they weren’t. At least not at this point in their story. They were still in the struggle between good and evil, and sometimes they chose good.
For example, despite their grumbling and murmuring, they were not in complete and utter rebellion when we first meet them. They chose to obey when they went with Lehi into the wilderness. Twice more they chose good, when they returned to Jerusalem, once for the plates and once for Ishmael and family. Both times they could have stayed. They could have taken all their wealth and instead of trying to purchase the brass plates, they could have left Jerusalem for parts unknown, taking off as fast as they could go in the opposite direction. When they went back for Ishmael, they could have said no more. Who was there to make them go back to their family?
And here, after becoming so angry with Nephi that they tie him up and threaten to kill him, they regain their senses and their hearts are softened (v19). They feel sorrow for their actions and they repent, begging Nephi to forgive them (v20). And then they prayed to the Lord for forgiveness (v21).
These men were not yet past feeling. The Spirit of the Lord still strove with them. Yes, they were full of pride, struggling with their character defects. But they were not yet lost. They still had their choice, and here, they chose good—and they continued on their way back to the wilderness, back to Lehi, back toward the promised land.
It’s important to see this aspect of Laman and Lemuel’s character. When all we see is the bad side, it’s too easy to write them off and to discount their story because there’s no way we’re as bad as they are. But seeing their good side, seeing their struggle for what it is, can teach us a few things about living righteously:
I am not so different from them. I have my struggle between good and bad, just as they did. I have times when I choose good and times when I choose otherwise, just as they did. I need to be vigilant in seeking and choosing righteousness so that I am not wooed to ‘the dark side,’ just as they were.
Don’t ever assume others are too hardened and evil to be beyond the reach of the spirit. The spirit may still strive with them and they may choose to do right. Appeal to their good side as frequently as you can.
Our actions are choices. We’re not intrinsically good or evil. We become so through our choices. At the end of 1 Nephi 7, Laman and Lemuel have repented and made a righteous choice. Had they continued in these choices, we would have an entirely different Book of Mormon. But just as they chose to be softened here, at some point later, they chose to resist that softening—and continued to choose to resist until that pattern was set.
Laman and Lemuel waffled between rebellion and repentance while Lehi was alive. Lehi’s influence kept them from complete rebellion. I’ve seen this happen to others. Men who skirted the edge of iniquity but managed to resist while they were in the bishopric but then went downhill quickly after they were released and removed from the regular righteous influence of others.
Eventually we have to be strong enough to stand on our own spiritually because sooner or later, whomever we’re leaning on will die, or move, or have their own struggles. If we can’t stand on our own testimony, we will fall.
But they weren’t. At least not at this point in their story. They were still in the struggle between good and evil, and sometimes they chose good.
For example, despite their grumbling and murmuring, they were not in complete and utter rebellion when we first meet them. They chose to obey when they went with Lehi into the wilderness. Twice more they chose good, when they returned to Jerusalem, once for the plates and once for Ishmael and family. Both times they could have stayed. They could have taken all their wealth and instead of trying to purchase the brass plates, they could have left Jerusalem for parts unknown, taking off as fast as they could go in the opposite direction. When they went back for Ishmael, they could have said no more. Who was there to make them go back to their family?
And here, after becoming so angry with Nephi that they tie him up and threaten to kill him, they regain their senses and their hearts are softened (v19). They feel sorrow for their actions and they repent, begging Nephi to forgive them (v20). And then they prayed to the Lord for forgiveness (v21).
These men were not yet past feeling. The Spirit of the Lord still strove with them. Yes, they were full of pride, struggling with their character defects. But they were not yet lost. They still had their choice, and here, they chose good—and they continued on their way back to the wilderness, back to Lehi, back toward the promised land.
It’s important to see this aspect of Laman and Lemuel’s character. When all we see is the bad side, it’s too easy to write them off and to discount their story because there’s no way we’re as bad as they are. But seeing their good side, seeing their struggle for what it is, can teach us a few things about living righteously:
I am not so different from them. I have my struggle between good and bad, just as they did. I have times when I choose good and times when I choose otherwise, just as they did. I need to be vigilant in seeking and choosing righteousness so that I am not wooed to ‘the dark side,’ just as they were.
Don’t ever assume others are too hardened and evil to be beyond the reach of the spirit. The spirit may still strive with them and they may choose to do right. Appeal to their good side as frequently as you can.
Our actions are choices. We’re not intrinsically good or evil. We become so through our choices. At the end of 1 Nephi 7, Laman and Lemuel have repented and made a righteous choice. Had they continued in these choices, we would have an entirely different Book of Mormon. But just as they chose to be softened here, at some point later, they chose to resist that softening—and continued to choose to resist until that pattern was set.
Laman and Lemuel waffled between rebellion and repentance while Lehi was alive. Lehi’s influence kept them from complete rebellion. I’ve seen this happen to others. Men who skirted the edge of iniquity but managed to resist while they were in the bishopric but then went downhill quickly after they were released and removed from the regular righteous influence of others.
Eventually we have to be strong enough to stand on our own spiritually because sooner or later, whomever we’re leaning on will die, or move, or have their own struggles. If we can’t stand on our own testimony, we will fall.
Choosing Option D (Part 2)
Okay, that reminds me of a joke:
God had created the world and was looking at the various spirits and assigning them a place in this world.
God asked one spirit, “What do you want to do?”
The spirit answered, “I want to live in the outdoors and run and run and run, through the fields and over the valleys and hills. I want to feel the air in my hair, the wind in my face.”
And God said, “Then you can be a horse.”
God asked another spirit, “What do you want to do?”
The spirit answered, “I want to float through the air, soar among the clouds, to be free to go wherever I want, whenever I want.”
And God said, “Then you can be a bird.”
God asked a third spirit, “What do you want to do?”
The spirit looked at God and said, “I dunno. What do you think I should do?”
“Ah,” said God. “You can be man.”
God had created the world and was looking at the various spirits and assigning them a place in this world.
God asked one spirit, “What do you want to do?”
The spirit answered, “I want to live in the outdoors and run and run and run, through the fields and over the valleys and hills. I want to feel the air in my hair, the wind in my face.”
And God said, “Then you can be a horse.”
God asked another spirit, “What do you want to do?”
The spirit answered, “I want to float through the air, soar among the clouds, to be free to go wherever I want, whenever I want.”
And God said, “Then you can be a bird.”
God asked a third spirit, “What do you want to do?”
The spirit looked at God and said, “I dunno. What do you think I should do?”
“Ah,” said God. “You can be man.”
Choosing Option D (1 Nephi 7:17-18)
Laman and Lemuel have bound Nephi and are threatening his life. Nephi prays for the strength to “burst these bands” and the bands are loosed.
Pres. Hinckley said, “Believe in prayer and the power of prayer. Pray to the Lord with the expectation of answers.”
Do I do this? Do I pray with the expectation of an answer? Well, yes. And no.
When I pray for something, I always give the Lord an out. I pray for a particular result, but then I add an “or.” Keep my children safe from harm or help me to deal with their injuries. Save my business or help me find other work if it fails. Heal me or give me the patience to endure. Were I in Nephi’s place, my prayer would be: break these bands, or soften their hearts, or send someone to rescue me, or if I am to die, take me quickly and comfort my loved ones.
I tell myself I’m being humble, that this is a sign that I am willing to accept God’s will, whatever it may be. And while that is true, it is also true that in my heart of hearts, there is a tiny part of me that does not believe the Lord will answer my prayers in the way I wish them to be answered.
Is this bad? Is this a lack of faith?
When I pray, I always receive an answer—understanding, insight, enlightenment, miracles, comfort. But I have never prayed like Nephi did—asking for a specific result and no other, and expecting it to happen. Am I showing faith and acceptance by ‘giving’ the Lord all these options? Or am I giving options because I doubt He will give me the one I want?
Tough questions. And while the answer is a little of both, there is another answer too. And that is that following the Lord’s will is more important to me than any of other the possible outcomes. I may pray for A, B or C but more than those, I want D—to always do as the Lord wants me to do.
Pres. Hinckley said, “Believe in prayer and the power of prayer. Pray to the Lord with the expectation of answers.”
Do I do this? Do I pray with the expectation of an answer? Well, yes. And no.
When I pray for something, I always give the Lord an out. I pray for a particular result, but then I add an “or.” Keep my children safe from harm or help me to deal with their injuries. Save my business or help me find other work if it fails. Heal me or give me the patience to endure. Were I in Nephi’s place, my prayer would be: break these bands, or soften their hearts, or send someone to rescue me, or if I am to die, take me quickly and comfort my loved ones.
I tell myself I’m being humble, that this is a sign that I am willing to accept God’s will, whatever it may be. And while that is true, it is also true that in my heart of hearts, there is a tiny part of me that does not believe the Lord will answer my prayers in the way I wish them to be answered.
Is this bad? Is this a lack of faith?
When I pray, I always receive an answer—understanding, insight, enlightenment, miracles, comfort. But I have never prayed like Nephi did—asking for a specific result and no other, and expecting it to happen. Am I showing faith and acceptance by ‘giving’ the Lord all these options? Or am I giving options because I doubt He will give me the one I want?
Tough questions. And while the answer is a little of both, there is another answer too. And that is that following the Lord’s will is more important to me than any of other the possible outcomes. I may pray for A, B or C but more than those, I want D—to always do as the Lord wants me to do.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Great Things the Lord Hath Done (1 Nephi 7:12)
“how is it that ye have forgotten what great things the Lord hath done for
us,…how is it that ye have forgotten that the Lord is able to do all things
according to his will, for the children of men, if it so be that they exercise
faith in Him? Wherefore, let us be faithful to him.” (1 Nephi 7:12)
I need a poster of this. 2 feet x 4 feet. Technicolor. 3-D would be nice. When I start to worry and fret, I need someone to say, “K, have you forgotten all the wonderful things the Lord has done for you?” And then I need them to make me recite them, right then, in the moment of my discouragement.
Do you need reminding of what great things the Lord has done for you? Make a list, right now. Get paper and pen and write them down. Here are a few of mine (in no particular order). Feel free to add them to your list if they apply.
He gave me a blessed family of origin—goodly and good-hearted parents, siblings who have always been there for me, kind and loving grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins.
He didn’t leave me when I was rebellious and contrary. He protected me and gave me multiple experiences to soften my heart.
He gave me four beautiful, wonderful children to bless my life.
He supported me through a divorce.
He provided a computer many years ago and prepared and taught me, one increment at a time, moving from job to job, until I found myself here, in a career that I love.
He gave me a wonderful husband who loves and supports me, someone I can trust with my heart, someone who loves my children as if they were his own.
He allowed me to be part of a great work of recovery—first to use it to heal my own life and then to spread the good word of His Atonement to others.
He daily shows His hand and works in my life.
Why should I fear and doubt when He has already proved Himself? And how do I prove myself to Him? By keeping faith in my heart and faithfulness in my behaviors.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Take The Gift and Say Thank You (1 Nephi 5:2-9)
Lehi has sent the boys back to Jerusalem to get the plates. Sariah is not happy about this. The wilderness is a rough place. They could trip over the desert equivalent of a gopher hole, fall down and break their neck. They could be attacked by rabid camels. They could be mugged in the city. They would be hot and hungry and tired. Tempers would flare. Why, they could kill each other!
Sariah’s sons were gone a long time. Best estimates put travel time at around 2 weeks each way. Add in a day, maybe two, spent in town and they would have been gone for more than a month. Plenty of time for Mom to work herself into a stew. If Sariah was like me, she probably had their journey timed to the minute—and when they didn’t return…well, her imagination provided no limit to the number of reasons they might not make it back to her.
So Sariah complained to the only person available—Lehi. Nearly out of her mind with worry, she blamed it on the person closest at hand. That seems to be a universal human reaction to stress. Taking it out on someone else is so much easier than patiently accepting life on life’s terms.
Waiting for the miracle while in the midst of the wilderness is a hard thing to do. It’s hard to stay positive in the face of hardship, especially when the hardships are a result of doing what the Lord wants you to do. You start to think you “deserve” to be blessed.
It doesn’t work that way. That kind of thinking just makes it worse. All we can do is patiently submit and let the Lord ease the strain, lift the burden. And when the miracle happens, we take the gift and say thank you. Like Sariah did.
Sariah’s sons were gone a long time. Best estimates put travel time at around 2 weeks each way. Add in a day, maybe two, spent in town and they would have been gone for more than a month. Plenty of time for Mom to work herself into a stew. If Sariah was like me, she probably had their journey timed to the minute—and when they didn’t return…well, her imagination provided no limit to the number of reasons they might not make it back to her.
So Sariah complained to the only person available—Lehi. Nearly out of her mind with worry, she blamed it on the person closest at hand. That seems to be a universal human reaction to stress. Taking it out on someone else is so much easier than patiently accepting life on life’s terms.
Waiting for the miracle while in the midst of the wilderness is a hard thing to do. It’s hard to stay positive in the face of hardship, especially when the hardships are a result of doing what the Lord wants you to do. You start to think you “deserve” to be blessed.
It doesn’t work that way. That kind of thinking just makes it worse. All we can do is patiently submit and let the Lord ease the strain, lift the burden. And when the miracle happens, we take the gift and say thank you. Like Sariah did.
And when we had returned to the tent of my father, behold their joy was full,
and my mother was comforted. And she spake, saying: Now I know of a surety that
the Lord hath commanded my husband to flee into the wilderness; yea, and I also
know of a surety that the Lord hath protected my sons, and delivered them out of
the hands of Laban, and given them power whereby they could accomplish the thing
which the Lord hath commanded them. And after this manner of language did she
speak. And it came to pass that they did rejoice exceedingly, and did offer
sacrifice and burnt offerings unto the Lord; and they gave thanks unto the God
of Israel. (1 Nephi 5:7-9)
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Following Simply Because He Leads (1 Nephi 4:6)
“And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do.” (1 Nephi 4:6)
I want to know the outcome before I take the first step. I may not want to go down that path if it’s going to hurt or cause discomfort. I don’t have to see the whole path, just to the next bend. I need to see ahead, just a little bit. Please.
The problem with seeing ahead a little bit is I believe I can guess the final destination from what I can see from the starting position. Because I can see some of the consequences, I think I know all of the results.
This is not wisdom. This opens the door to fear.
For a controlling, type-A, need to know, I want my ducks (and everyone else’s) neatly rowed type of person, letting go and trusting God is not a natural way to live. To live by faith alone requires me to unlearn everything I’ve learned from life thus far, and re-learn a whole new set of behaviors, actions and thought patterns. Then I have to remember to use those behaviors, actions and thought patterns in every new situation.
Daunting.
So here’s a question: Is fear in itself a lack of faith? Or is it merely instinctual?
What if the true lack of faith is not in feeling the fear, but in allowing that fear to stop us from taking the next step on the path. It is allowing the fear to stop us from trusting the Lord.
If I trust the Lord, then when He says, “Step here,” I step—looking only at Him and not the path ahead.
True faith, true trust in the Lord, is to follow simply because He leads.
I want to know the outcome before I take the first step. I may not want to go down that path if it’s going to hurt or cause discomfort. I don’t have to see the whole path, just to the next bend. I need to see ahead, just a little bit. Please.
The problem with seeing ahead a little bit is I believe I can guess the final destination from what I can see from the starting position. Because I can see some of the consequences, I think I know all of the results.
This is not wisdom. This opens the door to fear.
For a controlling, type-A, need to know, I want my ducks (and everyone else’s) neatly rowed type of person, letting go and trusting God is not a natural way to live. To live by faith alone requires me to unlearn everything I’ve learned from life thus far, and re-learn a whole new set of behaviors, actions and thought patterns. Then I have to remember to use those behaviors, actions and thought patterns in every new situation.
Daunting.
So here’s a question: Is fear in itself a lack of faith? Or is it merely instinctual?
What if the true lack of faith is not in feeling the fear, but in allowing that fear to stop us from taking the next step on the path. It is allowing the fear to stop us from trusting the Lord.
If I trust the Lord, then when He says, “Step here,” I step—looking only at Him and not the path ahead.
True faith, true trust in the Lord, is to follow simply because He leads.
Fearing Laban’s Fifty (1 Nephi 4:1)
“Let us be faithful in keeping the commandments of the Lord; for behold he is mightier than all the earth, then why not mightier than Laban and his fifty, or even than his tens of thousands?” (1 Nephi 4:1)
What are my “Laban’s fifty”? What are those things I fear, that hold me back, that cause me to not do what the Lord wants me to do?
Health. People might be angry with me. Spectre of bankruptcy and failure. The sheer mathematics of staying in business. Like Laban’s fifty was to Laman and Lemuel, these are my excuses not to try.
But if the Lord is mightier than all the earth, wouldn’t that make Him mightier than germs? Mightier than the anger and disrespect of others? Mightier than bankruptcy—either to prevent it altogether or to support me during and after?
And if the Lord knows enough mathematics required to create the world and everything in it, wouldn’t He be able to help me with the comparatively simple mathematics of running a business?
When I doubt, when I fear, when I let my own version of Laban’s fifty stop me, I am saying that I believe there are things in this world that are mightier than God. But I don’t believe that. If God created it all, He must be mightier than it all.
So if my beliefs and my behaviors are out of sync, it is my behavior that must change. God has set me a task, therefore I must go to that task. I must “go up,” believing that “the Lord is able to deliver [me] even as our fathers.” (v3)
Laban’s fifty vs. God’s one. That’s really not a fair fight. God always wins.
What are my “Laban’s fifty”? What are those things I fear, that hold me back, that cause me to not do what the Lord wants me to do?
Health. People might be angry with me. Spectre of bankruptcy and failure. The sheer mathematics of staying in business. Like Laban’s fifty was to Laman and Lemuel, these are my excuses not to try.
But if the Lord is mightier than all the earth, wouldn’t that make Him mightier than germs? Mightier than the anger and disrespect of others? Mightier than bankruptcy—either to prevent it altogether or to support me during and after?
And if the Lord knows enough mathematics required to create the world and everything in it, wouldn’t He be able to help me with the comparatively simple mathematics of running a business?
When I doubt, when I fear, when I let my own version of Laban’s fifty stop me, I am saying that I believe there are things in this world that are mightier than God. But I don’t believe that. If God created it all, He must be mightier than it all.
So if my beliefs and my behaviors are out of sync, it is my behavior that must change. God has set me a task, therefore I must go to that task. I must “go up,” believing that “the Lord is able to deliver [me] even as our fathers.” (v3)
Laban’s fifty vs. God’s one. That’s really not a fair fight. God always wins.
Killing Laban (1 Nephi 3-4)
Have you ever had to ‘kill Laban’?
Don’t answer too quickly. Stop and think for a minute.
Have you ever had to do something that was so foreign to your basic nature that it took the absolute certainty that comes from knowing it is something God wants you to do to give you the courage to do it?
I bet you have.
Have you ever felt the Spirit tell you to do something, and said in your heart, “I can’t do this! This is too hard. This is not me. This is outside my world view. This goes against some of my most basic core beliefs and feelings.”? Have you looked at a task, knowing God wanted you to do it, and yet also knowing that your own desires, your own dreams, your own motivations were not enough to make you do it? That nothing on this earth was strong enough to make you do it, to carry through with it?
I bet you’ve felt that too.
I’ve felt it. I’ve been there in that moment, asked to kill Laban and not having the strength. I’ve been there more than once, and I bet you have too.
These moments, these events, are too personal to share with others, but you know what they are. And you know, like I do, what it feels like to stand there, sword in hand, facing the struggle to obey God or to obey the inclinations of self. It is never an easy decision.
And it usually comes upon the heels of a long trek back to Jerusalem, leaving you exhausted, trembling and uncertain.
Killing Laban is always hard.
And yet, I know I must choose. I either know the voice of the Lord in my heart and mind, or I don’t. I either obey God, or I don’t. I either believe, or I don’t.
There is no middle ground when you’re faced with killing Laban. You either do it, or you don’t.
And so, I made my choice. I killed Laban today. I picked up the sword of faith and lopped off the head of fear.
Don’t answer too quickly. Stop and think for a minute.
Have you ever had to do something that was so foreign to your basic nature that it took the absolute certainty that comes from knowing it is something God wants you to do to give you the courage to do it?
I bet you have.
Have you ever felt the Spirit tell you to do something, and said in your heart, “I can’t do this! This is too hard. This is not me. This is outside my world view. This goes against some of my most basic core beliefs and feelings.”? Have you looked at a task, knowing God wanted you to do it, and yet also knowing that your own desires, your own dreams, your own motivations were not enough to make you do it? That nothing on this earth was strong enough to make you do it, to carry through with it?
I bet you’ve felt that too.
I’ve felt it. I’ve been there in that moment, asked to kill Laban and not having the strength. I’ve been there more than once, and I bet you have too.
These moments, these events, are too personal to share with others, but you know what they are. And you know, like I do, what it feels like to stand there, sword in hand, facing the struggle to obey God or to obey the inclinations of self. It is never an easy decision.
And it usually comes upon the heels of a long trek back to Jerusalem, leaving you exhausted, trembling and uncertain.
Killing Laban is always hard.
And yet, I know I must choose. I either know the voice of the Lord in my heart and mind, or I don’t. I either obey God, or I don’t. I either believe, or I don’t.
There is no middle ground when you’re faced with killing Laban. You either do it, or you don’t.
And so, I made my choice. I killed Laban today. I picked up the sword of faith and lopped off the head of fear.
Ignorance (1 Nephi 2:4)
“And they [Laman and Lemuel] did murmur because they knew not the dealings of that God who had created them.” (1 Nephi 2:12)
Although they were visited by angels, instructed by a prophet, and had the opportunity for direct communication with God, Laman and Lemuel really never got that long range view necessary to bolster and support them through the long haul. They never understood the what nor the why of this trek to the promised land. And so they murmured.
The more I recognize the Lord’s hand in my life, the less I murmur and complain about everything. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like I murmur less, because I’m just a gifted murmurer, been that way all my life. But really, compared to the murmuring I did a few years ago, today’s murmuring is nothing!
Two reasons I murmur less:
1) Gratitude—it’s really hard to work up a good murmur when I feel gratitude for what the Lord has given me
2) New Understandings—after the crisis (the event I’ve murmured about) has passed, I can look back and see how it strengthened me, how it prepared me, and how I was blessed for it. The act of looking back at the past makes it harder to murmur in the present.
So, the only two reasons for murmuring are 1) ingratitude and 2) ignorance. And the only way not to feel gratitude is to be blind to my blessings—ignorance again.
Harsh, but true. And oh, how I hate to be ignorant.
So what is the remedy for ignorance? Nephi must have known I would ask.
“having great desires to know…I did cry unto the Lord; and behold he did visit me, and did soften my heart that I did believe…” (1 Nephi 2:16)
Prayer, scriptures, following the prophet—these are the remedies for ignorance. These are the answers to EVERYTHING.
Although they were visited by angels, instructed by a prophet, and had the opportunity for direct communication with God, Laman and Lemuel really never got that long range view necessary to bolster and support them through the long haul. They never understood the what nor the why of this trek to the promised land. And so they murmured.
The more I recognize the Lord’s hand in my life, the less I murmur and complain about everything. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like I murmur less, because I’m just a gifted murmurer, been that way all my life. But really, compared to the murmuring I did a few years ago, today’s murmuring is nothing!
Two reasons I murmur less:
1) Gratitude—it’s really hard to work up a good murmur when I feel gratitude for what the Lord has given me
2) New Understandings—after the crisis (the event I’ve murmured about) has passed, I can look back and see how it strengthened me, how it prepared me, and how I was blessed for it. The act of looking back at the past makes it harder to murmur in the present.
So, the only two reasons for murmuring are 1) ingratitude and 2) ignorance. And the only way not to feel gratitude is to be blind to my blessings—ignorance again.
Harsh, but true. And oh, how I hate to be ignorant.
So what is the remedy for ignorance? Nephi must have known I would ask.
“having great desires to know…I did cry unto the Lord; and behold he did visit me, and did soften my heart that I did believe…” (1 Nephi 2:16)
Prayer, scriptures, following the prophet—these are the remedies for ignorance. These are the answers to EVERYTHING.
A Really, Really Long-Range View (1 Nephi 2:4)
“[Lehi] departed into the wilderness. And he left his house,…inheritance,…gold,…silver,…precious things, [taking] nothing [but]…family,…provisions, and tents…” (1 Nephi 2:4)
Do I even want to go here? To make a comparison and contrast between myself and Lehi?
[deep sigh]
Okay, (reluctantly) I ask myself, “How hard would that have been?” I imagine myself, my husband, my daughter and her husband, my unmarried son and two other unmarried daughters taking off into the wilderness with just our packs and tents. Set aside the reality that we’d probably die from starvation or be eaten by bears within the first week. How hard would that be?
In previous readings of this story, I’ve always looked at what I would be leaving behind. That is a huge sacrifice. But this reading something dawned on me. It’s not just a question of the life we’re leaving behind (complete with cell phones, microwave ovens, flush toilets, and the like). It’s also a question of the life we’re going to. Just us. What kind of work will we do? How will we survive? How will we entertain ourselves? What if someone gets sick? Where will we find spouses for our unmarried children? Where will their children find spouses? To me, that’s the harder part of it. Not what I’m leaving behind, hard as that would be, but the empty and uncertain wilderness I’d be going to.
How sick of each other would we all be after just a few weeks?! And Lehi and family did it for 8 years, then crossed the ocean to do it for the rest of their lives. No wonder Laman and Lemuel wanted to kill Nephi. Even if they were basically good at heart, I can imagine coming to blows just from the unending sameness of it all.
Yes, Lehi went back for wives and a few other people, adding in some variety to the basic family unit. But still. Even the pioneers trekking to Utah had a larger social group for support and interaction.
What would it take to make this decision?
Nothing short of divine intervention, an absolute and unshakeable certainty that you were doing God’s will—and a really, really long range view of the eternal plan for this world.
Do I even want to go here? To make a comparison and contrast between myself and Lehi?
[deep sigh]
Okay, (reluctantly) I ask myself, “How hard would that have been?” I imagine myself, my husband, my daughter and her husband, my unmarried son and two other unmarried daughters taking off into the wilderness with just our packs and tents. Set aside the reality that we’d probably die from starvation or be eaten by bears within the first week. How hard would that be?
In previous readings of this story, I’ve always looked at what I would be leaving behind. That is a huge sacrifice. But this reading something dawned on me. It’s not just a question of the life we’re leaving behind (complete with cell phones, microwave ovens, flush toilets, and the like). It’s also a question of the life we’re going to. Just us. What kind of work will we do? How will we survive? How will we entertain ourselves? What if someone gets sick? Where will we find spouses for our unmarried children? Where will their children find spouses? To me, that’s the harder part of it. Not what I’m leaving behind, hard as that would be, but the empty and uncertain wilderness I’d be going to.
How sick of each other would we all be after just a few weeks?! And Lehi and family did it for 8 years, then crossed the ocean to do it for the rest of their lives. No wonder Laman and Lemuel wanted to kill Nephi. Even if they were basically good at heart, I can imagine coming to blows just from the unending sameness of it all.
Yes, Lehi went back for wives and a few other people, adding in some variety to the basic family unit. But still. Even the pioneers trekking to Utah had a larger social group for support and interaction.
What would it take to make this decision?
Nothing short of divine intervention, an absolute and unshakeable certainty that you were doing God’s will—and a really, really long range view of the eternal plan for this world.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Tender Mercies (1 Nephi 1:20)
“But behold, I, Nephi, will show unto you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance.” (1 Nephi 1:20)
This one verse tells me so much about the character of God. When I was young, I remember hearing all these fire and brimstone speeches, all the terrible things that would happen to me, all the ways God would curse me if I stepped out of line. I’m sure I heard stories of a kind, loving, forgiving God too, but they didn’t leave as much of an impression upon my overly imaginative mind as the hell and damnation stories did.
I used to be afraid of God. I could not be perfect, therefore it was only a matter of time before I “got mine.” During my teen years, I used that as an excuse to participate in various forms of rebellion. If I was going to be punished and sent to hell, I might as well make it worth the trip!
Fortunately, and I’m sure due to the many prayers and efforts of my wonderful “goodly” parents, I soon saw the error of my ways. Sin and rebellion only led to heartache, creating “hell” on earth.
I then set out to be as perfect as possible, on the chance—slim though it may be—of avoiding this terrible fate. Well, that didn’t work. No matter how hard I tried, I was weak and human. I slipped up. I came to feel like God set me these impossible tasks, let me get almost within arm’s reach, then at the very last minute, He would jerk the rug out from under me and yank away the prize, the promised blessings.
I vividly remember the day these beliefs changed. I told a close friend how I felt—someone who clearly knew the God Nephi spoke of and often testified of His “tender mercies” in her life. She said I should pray and tell God, honestly, how I felt.
I couldn’t do that! Tell God I felt angry and resentful toward Him? That I didn’t trust Him? That sometimes I didn’t even particularly like Him? I might as well set up a lightning rod and paint a target on my head!
And then my friend said one of the most profound things I’ve every heard in my life: “What? You think He doesn’t already know?”
Those words echoed through my mind over and over for days. Not long afterward, I found myself at home alone for several hours. I gathered all the courage I had—plus I’m sure some on loan from unseen angels—and I knelt and began to pray, expressing for the first time the honest feelings of my heart. It was not pretty.
After awhile, I ran out of steam. You can only rant and rave and cry for so long before the body just stops. I moved from a kneeling to a sitting position, my back against the side of my bed. Exhausted, I just sat there awhile.
Then I looked around. There on the floor, peeking out from under a messy pile of blankets, was the corner of a Book of Mormon. I crawled over to it, opened it and began to read.
Sometime later, I found myself back on my knees, this time asking the Lord to show me the truth of my situation. Was He really an angry, vengeful, manipulative God? Or was He the kind, loving, merciful being my friend and the Book of Mormon testified of?
What followed was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life. During the next hour, I became convinced of God’s love for me as an individual, of His desire for me to succeed, and of His unending supply of tender mercy for me.
I wish I could say life was wonderful from then on, but I cannot. I was yet to face some of my greatest challenges. And having not yet developed the habit of turning to the Lord, counseling with Him in all things, there were many times when I behaved at odds with what I now knew to be true. I would often hit a brick wall, bang my head against it for days or weeks before finally remembering to ask the Lord for help, to apply His tender mercies to my current situation. But as soon as I did remember, as soon as I asked for His help, a previously unseen door would open in that wall and God would deliver me.
Today I see the tender mercies of the Lord all around me. Not generic mercies, but custom-tailored-just-for-me mercies. I see the Lord’s hand working for my good, in my life, in the lives of others.
Do I still find myself sometimes banging my head against a brick wall? Well, of course I do! But I bang my head much less often and for far less time than before. Sometimes I even catch myself on the first thwack, stop, and look for the door that I know God is waiting to open for me. He is just waiting to make me “mighty even unto the power of deliverance” from whatever current, uncomfortable, unresolvable situation I find myself in.
So, the moral of this very long narration: I know from hard-won personal experience that God, the Lord Jesus Christ, is a God of tenderness and mercy. I know that He “chooses” to bless me because I choose to believe He will. His tender mercies color and soften all my life experiences and I can find them if I just take a moment to look.
And I know that you will be able to see them in your own life too. Just ask Him to show you. He will.
This one verse tells me so much about the character of God. When I was young, I remember hearing all these fire and brimstone speeches, all the terrible things that would happen to me, all the ways God would curse me if I stepped out of line. I’m sure I heard stories of a kind, loving, forgiving God too, but they didn’t leave as much of an impression upon my overly imaginative mind as the hell and damnation stories did.
I used to be afraid of God. I could not be perfect, therefore it was only a matter of time before I “got mine.” During my teen years, I used that as an excuse to participate in various forms of rebellion. If I was going to be punished and sent to hell, I might as well make it worth the trip!
Fortunately, and I’m sure due to the many prayers and efforts of my wonderful “goodly” parents, I soon saw the error of my ways. Sin and rebellion only led to heartache, creating “hell” on earth.
I then set out to be as perfect as possible, on the chance—slim though it may be—of avoiding this terrible fate. Well, that didn’t work. No matter how hard I tried, I was weak and human. I slipped up. I came to feel like God set me these impossible tasks, let me get almost within arm’s reach, then at the very last minute, He would jerk the rug out from under me and yank away the prize, the promised blessings.
I vividly remember the day these beliefs changed. I told a close friend how I felt—someone who clearly knew the God Nephi spoke of and often testified of His “tender mercies” in her life. She said I should pray and tell God, honestly, how I felt.
I couldn’t do that! Tell God I felt angry and resentful toward Him? That I didn’t trust Him? That sometimes I didn’t even particularly like Him? I might as well set up a lightning rod and paint a target on my head!
And then my friend said one of the most profound things I’ve every heard in my life: “What? You think He doesn’t already know?”
Those words echoed through my mind over and over for days. Not long afterward, I found myself at home alone for several hours. I gathered all the courage I had—plus I’m sure some on loan from unseen angels—and I knelt and began to pray, expressing for the first time the honest feelings of my heart. It was not pretty.
After awhile, I ran out of steam. You can only rant and rave and cry for so long before the body just stops. I moved from a kneeling to a sitting position, my back against the side of my bed. Exhausted, I just sat there awhile.
Then I looked around. There on the floor, peeking out from under a messy pile of blankets, was the corner of a Book of Mormon. I crawled over to it, opened it and began to read.
Sometime later, I found myself back on my knees, this time asking the Lord to show me the truth of my situation. Was He really an angry, vengeful, manipulative God? Or was He the kind, loving, merciful being my friend and the Book of Mormon testified of?
What followed was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life. During the next hour, I became convinced of God’s love for me as an individual, of His desire for me to succeed, and of His unending supply of tender mercy for me.
I wish I could say life was wonderful from then on, but I cannot. I was yet to face some of my greatest challenges. And having not yet developed the habit of turning to the Lord, counseling with Him in all things, there were many times when I behaved at odds with what I now knew to be true. I would often hit a brick wall, bang my head against it for days or weeks before finally remembering to ask the Lord for help, to apply His tender mercies to my current situation. But as soon as I did remember, as soon as I asked for His help, a previously unseen door would open in that wall and God would deliver me.
Today I see the tender mercies of the Lord all around me. Not generic mercies, but custom-tailored-just-for-me mercies. I see the Lord’s hand working for my good, in my life, in the lives of others.
Do I still find myself sometimes banging my head against a brick wall? Well, of course I do! But I bang my head much less often and for far less time than before. Sometimes I even catch myself on the first thwack, stop, and look for the door that I know God is waiting to open for me. He is just waiting to make me “mighty even unto the power of deliverance” from whatever current, uncomfortable, unresolvable situation I find myself in.
So, the moral of this very long narration: I know from hard-won personal experience that God, the Lord Jesus Christ, is a God of tenderness and mercy. I know that He “chooses” to bless me because I choose to believe He will. His tender mercies color and soften all my life experiences and I can find them if I just take a moment to look.
And I know that you will be able to see them in your own life too. Just ask Him to show you. He will.
When Good Men and Women Do Nothing
“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”
—Edmund Burke
I’ve heard and read some comments lately that indicate the Internet is a dangerous place and blogs are even worse. We should stay away from it at all costs. There is also the idea that a blogspot page is not an appropriate forum for expressing testimony or talking about the Book of Mormon—the pearls before swine attitude. Being the codependent person that I am, I took some time for deep reflection. Here’s what I came up with.
Technology is a great blessing and a boon to the faithful, to those who use it for good and pure and positive purposes. The Church has multiple websites (which nixes the argument that this is not an appropriate forum). Genealogy has made huge strides with the advent of computer, software, and the ability to post information on websites. Like all other technological advances, the Internet is simply a tool. In and of itself, it is not good or bad. The value judgment rests in how it is used.
Like so many other blessings given to mankind, the Internet may also be twisted and perverted by evil hearts and minds. The same can be said about almost everything we see and use in our daily lives. Few would think a baseball bat something to be avoided and kept out of our homes at all costs, and yet it has been used at times to purposefully harm others. What about cars? What about books? What about belts? Even something as innocuous as a toothbrush, in the wrong hands, can become a weapon of evil and destruction. So the argument that the Internet can be a dangerous place, while true, is not relevant. Everything is dangerous.
A corollary to this is the idea of proportionate of use. Something becomes evil when more people use it to harm than to uplift. This same argument would use the Crusades to condemn Christianity.
How many times have we read in the scriptures that God preserved a city or a people for the sake of a few righteous souls? If every good and pure heart refrains from using this tool we call Internet for positive purposes, then indeed it shall become a tool of the devil. But what would be the result if instead of avoiding the Internet, every faithful, good-hearted person with access to it began to post positive, uplifting thoughts and stories? What would happen if every Christian with a computer began to bear testimony of Jesus Christ on the Internet? What if random surfing brought not a preponderance of porn, but an inundation of insight, a plethora of positiveness, and a torrent of testimony.
I believe that the Lord will bless and magnify every good and positive voice that speaks in this arena. I believe that as long as good men and women stand up and speak out, the Lord will not allow the filth to consume us.
—Edmund Burke
I’ve heard and read some comments lately that indicate the Internet is a dangerous place and blogs are even worse. We should stay away from it at all costs. There is also the idea that a blogspot page is not an appropriate forum for expressing testimony or talking about the Book of Mormon—the pearls before swine attitude. Being the codependent person that I am, I took some time for deep reflection. Here’s what I came up with.
Technology is a great blessing and a boon to the faithful, to those who use it for good and pure and positive purposes. The Church has multiple websites (which nixes the argument that this is not an appropriate forum). Genealogy has made huge strides with the advent of computer, software, and the ability to post information on websites. Like all other technological advances, the Internet is simply a tool. In and of itself, it is not good or bad. The value judgment rests in how it is used.
Like so many other blessings given to mankind, the Internet may also be twisted and perverted by evil hearts and minds. The same can be said about almost everything we see and use in our daily lives. Few would think a baseball bat something to be avoided and kept out of our homes at all costs, and yet it has been used at times to purposefully harm others. What about cars? What about books? What about belts? Even something as innocuous as a toothbrush, in the wrong hands, can become a weapon of evil and destruction. So the argument that the Internet can be a dangerous place, while true, is not relevant. Everything is dangerous.
A corollary to this is the idea of proportionate of use. Something becomes evil when more people use it to harm than to uplift. This same argument would use the Crusades to condemn Christianity.
How many times have we read in the scriptures that God preserved a city or a people for the sake of a few righteous souls? If every good and pure heart refrains from using this tool we call Internet for positive purposes, then indeed it shall become a tool of the devil. But what would be the result if instead of avoiding the Internet, every faithful, good-hearted person with access to it began to post positive, uplifting thoughts and stories? What would happen if every Christian with a computer began to bear testimony of Jesus Christ on the Internet? What if random surfing brought not a preponderance of porn, but an inundation of insight, a plethora of positiveness, and a torrent of testimony.
I believe that the Lord will bless and magnify every good and positive voice that speaks in this arena. I believe that as long as good men and women stand up and speak out, the Lord will not allow the filth to consume us.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Praising God Amid the Trials (1 Nephi 1:6-16)
Lehi reads from the book of prophecy. He reads of the abominations of his people, their forthcoming hardships, and the eventual destruction of Jerusalem. (v. 13) Since I already know how deeply he cares for his people, I can imagine the heartbreak and sadness this vision would bring. I would expect him to feel sorrowful, discouraged and overwhelmed.
And yet, in the next verse, he praises God, saying, "thy...goodness, and mercy are over all" (v. 14). How can he say that? How can he feel joy and praise God when his world is falling apart all around him?
How? Because he is resting in the arms of the Lord's comfort, fully partaking of His love and mercy on a personal level.
I know that feeling. I know what it is like to feel peace and love for and trust in the Lord when my own world is falling apart. I have felt it. I am feeling it now.
Enfolded in the arms of my Savior's love and mercy, I realize I am truly safe. With the Lord beside me, nothing can hurt me beyond my ability to heal. Should I become ill, He will sustain me. Should I die, He will receive me. Should my business crumble, my children lose their way, relationships dissolve, He will teach me.
Am I saying I will never feel pain or heartache or discouragement? Of course not! But when I do feel the pangs of mortality, whatever they may be, I know where to go to find balm to soothe my soul. If and when I turn to the Lord in fervant prayer, He will bind up and heal my wounds (Jer. 30:17; Jacob 2:8).
I know this because He has healed so many of my wounds already. He is healing me even as I sit here and write this message. It is only when I forget that I know this that the pain and discomfort of mortality become too much to bear. But the moment I turn back to Him, I feel peace enter my heart.
I know what that feels like. I've put it to the test. I have learned, and am still learning, to follow Lehi's example and to praise God amid the trials.
And yet, in the next verse, he praises God, saying, "thy...goodness, and mercy are over all" (v. 14). How can he say that? How can he feel joy and praise God when his world is falling apart all around him?
How? Because he is resting in the arms of the Lord's comfort, fully partaking of His love and mercy on a personal level.
I know that feeling. I know what it is like to feel peace and love for and trust in the Lord when my own world is falling apart. I have felt it. I am feeling it now.
Enfolded in the arms of my Savior's love and mercy, I realize I am truly safe. With the Lord beside me, nothing can hurt me beyond my ability to heal. Should I become ill, He will sustain me. Should I die, He will receive me. Should my business crumble, my children lose their way, relationships dissolve, He will teach me.
Am I saying I will never feel pain or heartache or discouragement? Of course not! But when I do feel the pangs of mortality, whatever they may be, I know where to go to find balm to soothe my soul. If and when I turn to the Lord in fervant prayer, He will bind up and heal my wounds (Jer. 30:17; Jacob 2:8).
I know this because He has healed so many of my wounds already. He is healing me even as I sit here and write this message. It is only when I forget that I know this that the pain and discomfort of mortality become too much to bear. But the moment I turn back to Him, I feel peace enter my heart.
"And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,
shall keep [protect] your hearts and minds
through Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:7)
I know what that feels like. I've put it to the test. I have learned, and am still learning, to follow Lehi's example and to praise God amid the trials.
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