How Elder Christofferson Got His Witness

In preparation for a Teachings of the Living Prophets class I'll be attending this evening, I've been asked to pick a member of the First Presidency or Quorum of the Twelve, read their Bio (to which links can be found here), and come prepared to share what I've learned. I chose which General Authority to read about randomly (literally, I rolled a die), and I happened to pick Elder D. Todd Christofferson,the speaker of the next General Conference talk I'll be blogging about. Some coincidence, huh?

The first of Elder Christofferson's stories that the biography shares is an account of the unusually ordinary way in which Elder Christofferson got his testimony. While he was a member of the cast of the Hill Cumorah Pageant in New York, he had an opportunity to visit the Sacred Grove, where he had hoped to receive a sure witness that the church is true.

“One night after the performance, I went to the Sacred Grove alone,” he remembers. “It was a beautiful summer evening. I entered the grove, and began to pray. I prayed very diligently for an hour, maybe more—and nothing happened.”

He may or may not have been expecting an experience like that of Enos, or at least some small feeling of testimony. He certainly wasn't expecting silence.

Some time later, he was reading the Book of Mormon, just as we all do (or should do) regularly. It was a perfectly ordinary activity for any of us, yet this time was different for him.

“Without my asking for it, the witness came,” he recalls. “It came without words, actually stronger than words, and I received a very powerful spiritual confirmation—the kind that leaves no doubt—about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith.

“Looking back on that experience, I realize that we can’t dictate to God when, where, or how He will speak to us. We just have to be open to receive what He disposes, when He disposes it. It comes according to His will, and it can come to us wherever we are.”

There have been many people in history who have demanded, or at least requested, a sign from God that He is real and that His gospel is true. As I understand it, few of such people get their answer right after asking for it. More often, God makes us wait and show our faith for a period of time, and then grants us the witness we had asked for, sometimes suddenly, but more often slowly, growing so gradually in our hearts that we don't even feel it. Elder Christofferson's experience with receiving a witness of the truthfulness of the church is fairly standard. He didn't see a vision or gain some revelatory insight. He was just reading the Book of Mormon, and then he knew.

It would be nice to get a clear answer from God immediately after asking for it, but it doesn't always work that way, not even for future Apostles. Most of the time, we need to keep waiting, keep working, keep praying, and keep practicing however much faith we have, until God gives us the sure witness we ask for. God's wisdom is greater than our wants. Very frequently, He withholds a blessing we ask for because He wants to give us something better instead. He gave Elder Christofferson the insight that we can't decide for God when He's going to do something for us, or even if He will. Instead, we need to be patient, have faith, and trust that God will answer our prayers in His own way and in His own time, according to His wisdom, even if that's not what we want.

Fear of God

The concept of a "fear of God" or of being a "god-fearing" person seems to be contradictory to much of what is taught about God. Scriptures tell us that God is a loving, merciful being. The fourth chapter of the first epistle of John even says that "God is love" (1 John 4:8,16). Why would we "fear" God?

On the other hand, there are other scriptures that are less reassuring. Many scriptures, especially in the Old Testament, speak of the justice and judgements of God. This is the God who rained fire on Sodom and Gomorrah and who drowned the Egyptians in the Red Sea (Tangent: I wondered when and why they started calling it the "Red" Sea. Probably before this event, but I wonder). According to these accounts and other stories and teachings from the Old Testament, God could be seen as being vengeful and destructive, and we'd be right to fear Him.

Yet, according to Elder David A. Bednar's talk, Therefore They Hushed Their Fears, this isn't the kind of fear that's implied by the term "godly fear." When a person tells you that they're a God-fearing person, that doesn't mean that they're literally afraid of God. Speaking of this kind of fear, Elder Bednar said:

The righteous fear I am attempting to describe encompasses a deep feeling of reverence, respect, and awe for the Lord Jesus Christ (see Psalm 33:8; 96:4), obedience to His commandments (see Deuteronomy 5:29; 8:6; 10:12; 13:4; Psalm 112:1), and anticipation of the Final Judgment and justice at His hand. Thus, godly fear grows out of a correct understanding of the divine nature and mission of the Lord Jesus Christ, a willingness to submit our will to His will, and a knowledge that every man and woman will be accountable for his or her own sins in the Day of Judgment (see D&C 101:78; Articles of Faith 1:2).

Let's organize this definition. Godly fear "encompasses
      - A deep feeling of reverence, respect, and awe for the Lord Jesus Christ,
      - Obedience to His commandments, and
      - Anticipation of the Final Judgement and justice at His hand.

"Thus, godly fear grows out of
      - A correct understanding of the divine nature and mission of Jesus Christ,
      - A willingness to submit our will to His will, and
      - A knowledge that every man and woman will be accountable for his or her own sins in the Day of Judgement."

I can understand why Elder Bednar used the phrase "I am attempting to describe" rather than "I am describing." This concept is difficult to grasp, and even more difficult to put into words. Perhaps C.S. Lewis said it best with his descriptions of Aslan. In The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, Lewis wrote that we "sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same time. If the children [who were now meeting Aslan] had ever thought so, they were cured of it now." I imagine that we will be, too, when we're brought back into God's presence. After the children saw Aslan's "great, royal, solemn, overwhelming eyes," they were so overwhelmed they couldn't bring themselves to look at him. Hopefully, that won't be true for us when we meet God, but it may be.

I think the fear of God has less to do with actually fearing Him, and more to do with recognizing how great He is. He is just and powerful. He is wise. He is our God, our King, and our Father. We don't need to be afraid of Him, but we do owe Him a terrible amount of respect. Part of that respect takes the form of reverence and obedience. Part of it includes the expectation of a just judgement from Him. We will get, at our Final Judgement, exactly what we deserve, given everything we've done. Perhaps that's what we're all so afraid of. But God has made it perfectly clear that we don't need to fear Him, not in that way, not if we follow His plan. Through the Atonement, Jesus Christ has satisfied the demands of justice for all of us. Because of Him, we don't need to fear justice, fear judgement, or fear to meet God.

The Writing Process

I have got to get back into the habit of blogging earlier in the day. At a certain point, my brain gets so tired that I can't focus on the Spirit. While I was reviewing my day, scrolling down Facebook, and reading articles on LDS.org, I'm sure I saw at least a dozen blogworthy thoughts, but I can't really think about what to say for any of them - not unless I'm prepared to spend a significant amount of time brainstorming and organizing unique thoughts with what's left of my cognitive ability. I'm sure I could blog about the folly of procrastination (again) or about how our ability to follow the Spirit is numbed by the same things that numb our brains, but that would require more thought than I think I'm currently capable of. So instead, I'll write about something that I know well enough that I can write about it without having to think too much, and hope I can find a spiritual application for it by the time I'm done.

The writing process is, applying only the barest essentials, a simple one. All a person has to do is sit down at a desk or table and start putting words on a paper or computer screen. That is, essentially, what I'm doing right now. But the literal act of writing words, the "drafting" of a book, essay, or blog post, is optimally only one of five steps within a greater writing process.

The first step, which is almost always done mentally, but is better done on paper, is prewriting. This often involves brainstorming, and basically means coming up with ideas for what to write about. This first step is the one on which I most frequently get stuck while blogging. One method of prewriting involves writing down anything you can think of that might match the topic at hand. For example, I could have opened a word document and started writing a list of the things I did and experienced today. If any one of those things seemed even remotely blogworthy, I could have narrowed my focus and made a list of thoughts that correspond with that experience. This will generate long lists of ideas - most of which won't be used in the actual paper, but that's okay. The purpose of this step is to generate as much material for your paper as possible, even if you can't use all of it.

The second step is to organize your thoughts. Now that you have a good amount of ideas, you can start to be picky and choose only the best ideas to use in your paper. This is also the step in which you start to put your thoughts in order. Thankfully for me, this step was already done for me when I decided to write about the writing process. Since the steps are chronological, remembering the steps gives me an outline I can use while writing about the writing process. For other topics, forming an outline can be trickier. It's not uncommon for people to skip this step and let their ideas fall wherever they may, but better papers are made by specifically choosing what order to present your information in.

The third and central step is drafting, the actual writing of the paper. Generally, you'll want to follow the outline you made in the previous step while you draft your paper, but other than that, don't worry too much about your paper's organization. The idea of this step is simply to write. Turning what you've written into something you can turn in for grading is the job of the next two steps.

The penultimate step is revising. In this step, you compare what you've written against what you were supposed to have written and with your outline. It's not likely to match perfectly. There may be whole sections of your draft that need cutting out or building up. Maybe you need to make subtle changes throughout the draft to create the feel that your paper is going for. For example, if I were feeling ambitious, I could look up the scripture about the parable about the man who wanted to build a tower, and work that scripture into the paragraph about one of the first two steps, explaining the wisdom of planning something before actually doing it. Actually, that may be blogworthy on its own. I should make myself a note to blog about that later. Another revision I should make would be to delete this entire sentence, along with the previous two.

The fifth and final step is editing. In this last step, you proofread your paper and check it for errors. If you find any small errors, you correct them. If you find any big errors, you wonder to yourself why you didn't catch them while you were revising, and then you correct them. The editing step deals mostly with what we call "sentence-level" or "local" issues, such as misspellings and grammatical errors, whereas the revising step focussed on "global" issues, such as whether or not your paper fits the assignment you were given and presents information clearly. I try to edit as I go, and experts disagree on whether or not that's a wise practice. It saves you time later and helps you exercise proper spelling, grammar, and punctuation, but it can also slow down a person's drafting step, and can even lead to writer's block if correcting an error derails your train of thought. Whether you edit while you write or not, so should always go back and check for errors after you finish writing a paper but before you submit it for a grade.

So, good writing involves much more than just doing the actual writing. There are steps to plan and prepare, to make sure you write the right stuff, and there are steps to revise and edit your work, to make sure you wrote the right stuff and wrote it right. There are at least two blogworthy thoughts I could pull out of that, one about preparing to take the proper course of action, and one about evaluating our choices after we've made them. Since I already plan on blogging about planning ahead later, I think I'll briefly blog about the second thought first.

In life, we can't really go back and edit the past. We can't revise what we've said to others after we've said it. I can't go back and replace whatever I did earlier this evening with writing a better blog post than this one. But we can do two other things instead. We can repent of past mistakes, and we can learn  from them for the future. Earlier today, I made the decision to put off blogging until now. In hindsight, that was a bad decision, and while I can't change my decision now, I can change my priorities for the future. Tomorrow, time permitting, I'll blog in the afternoon. If I can't do that, I'll try to blog before I leave for Scouts. And if I can't do that, I'm sorry, but my blog post will be late again tomorrow. But I will try to think of blogworthy topics throughout the day tomorrow (I know I've got the planning ahead idea, but I think I'll save that for later). I may even find something blogworthy in the next General Conference talk. I'll have to watch it again to be sure (reading it just hasn't been doing it for me). So at least, by the time I sit down to draft my next blog post, I'll have already done the first two steps in the process of writing it. Revision and editing will be done afterward, if both time and mental capacity remain when the third, most essential step is completed.

Pain and Empathy

I've been thinking about empathy lately. Some people I've been reading about in my American Literature class seemed to have lacked it, and some people, including myself, have given them a hard time about it, but given my recent first-hand experience with pain, I've noticed that it's far too easy for one to become preoccupied with one's own suffering, and to ignore, or to simply not notice the suffering of others.

I've been very selfish these last few days. I've gotten frustrated and angry when I really had no right to be. My pains and challenges are no worse than most other peoples'. In fact, there are thousands of people are much worse off than I am. What right do I have to complain or feel sorry for my own troubles? My hardships pale in comparison to those of others.

Yet, pain is something that is very difficult to compare. Pain is a sensation that is not seen, but felt, and we can really only feel our own. This means that we cannot accurately say that our pain is worse than anyone else's, because we have no idea how bad their pain is - we've never felt it, and we never will.

Because we don't feel the suffering of others, it's easy to minimize it. The act of doing that is sometimes called "being insensitive," and we are. We are "insensitive" to other people's suffering because that's a sensation we literally cannot feel. We can see signs of suffering in others, and we can have sympathy for their pain if we've ever felt pain that we think is comparable, but we can never really feel the pain of others. Only one person ever has.

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus Christ took upon Himself all the pains of the world. He personally felt the exact same pain that each of us feel. He alone knows how bad our pain is, and can accurately compare it to others.

We, on the other hand, need to try harder to be sensitive to the feelings of others, and not become too focussed on our own problems. I've been too bothered lately with my own pain and problems, and too blind to the pain and problems of others. Feeling and focussing on only one's own pain is very human. Trying to exercise compassion and empathy is truly divine. There are many divine people in my life. I should try harder to be more like them, to be more thoughtful and caring, more interested in alleviating the pain of others, and less concerned and preoccupied with the pain that I feel. I'm sure my pain is negligible compared to that of others. I should try to care more about their pain than about mine.

Empathy is a difficult aspect to develop. In fact, it may even be impossible for us to develop it, in the sense that we can't really feel anybody else's pain. We can, however, have sympathy for others and try to be sensitive to their pain. We can't feel it, but we can sometimes see the signs of it - especially when we care enough to look.

I know that I'm preaching to the choir here. Like many of my blog posts, this is a lesson I need to learn more than any of my readers do. I am the one who has been self-centered and insensitive lately. I'm the one who needs to get over my own problems and spend more time helping others with theirs. At the very least, I should try to be more sensitive to and more mindful of the feelings of others. Jesus Christ was never so selfish as I have been. He always had and expressed a great deal of compassion. I should try harder to follow His example.

Jesus Wept

Not long ago, in a moment of frustration and pain, I made an angry movement that splashed water onto a picture of Jesus' face. Looking at the moistened picture, I thought of the part of the Bible when, according to the shortest verse in all scripture, John 11:35, "Jesus wept." At that time, I don't think Jesus wept because Lazarus had died. Jesus knew the Plan of Salvation better than anyone; He knew that Lazarus was okay and that, soon enough, his entire family would be reunited with him. Jesus knew that the pain He and His loved ones were experiencing at the loss of Lazarus was temporary, and with His eternal perspective, I think He could have kept it together.

I think He wept, not because of the pain of His loss, but out of sympathy for those others who were mourning Lazarus' death. He wasn't weeping for His pain, but for theirs. He had so much compassion that, even though He knew that, in the long run, Lazarus' death wasn't really a big deal, He was moved to tears because He knew it was a big deal to those whom He was with.

The pain and frustration I experience isn't really a big deal either. It'll pass. Sure, my ear hurts and there are various aspects of my life that are frustrating and painful, but I know that whatever pain or hardship I'm going through, it won't last forever. Yet, I'm not as good at keeping an Eternal Perspective as Jesus is. I was in pain and frustrated and I've wept once or twice over the last few days, and when I looked up at the wet picture, I got the impression that Jesus was weeping with me. He has sympathy for my pain, just as He had had sympathy for the pain of the family of Lazarus.

The picture I got wet the other day has the caption "You are never alone. I will not leave you comfortless. I will come to you. (John 14:16)" I testify that Jesus did not leave me comfortless that day. He came to me with compassion and healing. Even though my pain is temporary and very miniscule compared to His, He has compassion for me an He suffers with me whenever I suffer. That is, perhaps, the most intimate aspect of the Atonement. Jesus knows exactly what we're going through, and He is with us every step of the way. His love and compassion extends to all of us and I believe that whenever we weep, so does He.

An Article and an Essay

I haven't yet found the answers to the questions to the questions I asked yesterday, but I have an idea they're somewhere in this article. You'll have to scroll half-way down to get to the part that talks about the sustaining of church officers. There are a lot of quotes about sustaining in there. I just haven't had time to look through them to find my answers. I went on a lot of adventures today, and now I need to write an essay that I couldn't get to yesterday and should have been writing since the beginning of this month. Luckily, it isn't a long essay, and the teacher really liked my last one. I don't think this one will be as strong as the previous one, since I keep getting distracted, but I'll correct the one major flaw the teacher had seen in my previous paper, so that should earn me a few points I hadn't earned last time, which will hopefully make up for this paper being not quite as polished as the last.

"The Vote Has Been Noted"

The sustaining of church officers is part of General Conference that is generally not very noteworthy. 15 or more names are read, about 15 million hands are raised, and we proceed to the next item of the agenda, waiting for the next talk to start. This Conference, however, we were reminded by President Uchtdorf, and a few others, that this Conference, as with all previous Conferences of this church, "The vote has been noted."

I'd like to look more closely at exactly what President Uchtdorf said during the first few minutes of the sustaining vote, especially the parts where he said "please," "thank you," and "by the same sign," but I'm afraid that it wouldn't quite be fair to President Uchtdorf. I wouldn't want my response to be deeply analyzed, word by word, in a moment when I was likely to have been taken by surprise. So as much as I would like to look more closely at the calm, tact, and courtesy of President Uchtdorf, instead I'm going to briefly blog about why we hold a sustaining vote at all. And bear in mind, these are just my thoughts, as any of the thoughts on my blog ever are unless I cite them.

Something we ought to note is that we are not actually voting. We're not choosing who is or isn't a prophet by voting for or against them. God has already chosen who the Prophet and Apostles are, and our votes aren't going to change His choice.

Instead, the sustaining vote is a personal commitment. We raise our hands to sustain the Prophets because that's the sign of a pledge. Boy Scouts raise their right arms to the square when reciting the Scout Oath and Law. That action signifies the commitment to keep the oath they're reciting and to live according to the principles of the Scout Law. In a similar way, when we raise our hands to sustain the prophets, that's not when we're actually sustaining them. That's when we pledge to sustain them. We sustain them when they give us counsel and we obey it and when detractors criticize them and we defend them. Raising our hands isn't really doing anything; it's just promising to.

But then, why do we do it? God can judge our hearts as well as He can watch our hands, so why do we make a signal to show whether we support the Prophet or not? And why is there a moment when we ask if there are any who are opposed to sustaining the prophets? It seems that I should do a little research on this topic. For now, I think it's enough to know that we sustain the prophets not when we raise our hands but when we follow their counsel, and there are more people noting our vote than one man standing behind a podium.

Multi-Faith Beliefs

In November of 2014, religious leaders from 14 different faiths gathered at the Vatican to share their beliefs in the value of family and in their concern for the trends of society's view of families. Before then, I was doubtful that so many different religions could come to an agreement on any topic. Yet, as Elder L. Tom Perry reported in his talk, Why Marriage and Family Matter - Everywhere in the World:

As I listened to the widest imaginable variety of worldwide religious leaders, I heard them agree completely with each other and express support for one another’s beliefs on the sanctity of the institution of marriage and of the importance of families as the basic unit of society. I felt a powerful sense of commonality and unity with them.

There are some truths that are so basic and essential to God's plan that everyone who has any desire to follow God has been inspired with a knowledge of and belief in them. Apparently, the sanctity and importance of the family is one of those values that transcends "political, economic, [and] religious differences." In General Conference, Elder Perry quoted Pope Francis, and at the colloquium, a Muslim scholar quoted The Family: A Proclamation to the World. Despite any differences between our various faiths, all 14 were "united on marriage and family, [and] on the values and loyalty and commitment which are naturally associated with family units."

I wonder what other principles unite us. Surely, all religions have a belief in the principle of faith, of believing in things we can't prove are true. Almost all religions profess hope in redemption and the promise of a celestial afterlife for those who live according to God's will. And most, if not all people, religious or not, believe in pursuing the common good, which is the hallmark of charity. Though the world likes to isolate us by placing us in differing groups and religions, I think that we have more in common with each other than we generally admit. We all have the Light of Christ in us, and the Spirit of God confirms the same truths to everyone else's hearts as He confirms to ours, so it's not too surprising that many of our core beliefs are the same. While we certainly have many differences, I believe that we have many similarities, too.

One person who would like to see us focus on our differences is the common enemy of us all. I think that he would rather see us arguing over our differences than working together for the common good. Thankfully, religious leaders of various faiths regularly defy him. We work together in our humanitarian efforts and disaster relief. We support each other's rights and beliefs, even when we disagree. And in our day-to-day, person-to-person lives, any religious differences we may have rarely even come up and seldom pose any hindering influence on our friendships and cooperation. Though Satan would love to tear us apart, and sometimes succeeds, we more frequently band together around our many common principles and beliefs. I'm thankful for mankind's ability to work together, despite our differences, and to focus on the common threads that unite us all. In a literal and figurative way, we are one great big family. And that's something we can all believe in.

"An Opportunity to Do Good..."

A mantra, as I'm using it here, is a short phrase that reminds a person how to act. For example, the Boy Scout Slogan, "Do a good turn daily," could be a mantra. President Monson's mantra might be "Never postpone a prompting." Sister Camilla Kimball, the wife of President Spencer W. Kimball, may be the source of another mantra: "Never suppress a generous thought." That one has inspired me many times to do the more generous thing when torn between decisions. Earlier today, I faced a decision that may have given birth to another mantra.

While riding the bus home from school this afternoon, I noticed a food container that someone had left discarded in the back. I observed that there was (probably spoiled) food in it, and I decided that I should throw it away when I got off the bus. It wasn't my garbage, but I knew that it was my responsibility to throw it away. As I came to that decision, or possibly just before I did, this thought came to my mind: "An opportunity to do good is an obligation to do good."

I'm not sure how I feel about that phrase as a mantra. It's not that I don't think it's a good thought; it's that I'm not sure that I can live up to it. Each day, we're given many opportunities to do good. I'm not sure whether I can handle having that much responsibility. On the other hand, isn't it true? Doesn't God expect us to do as much good as we can? Well, yes and no. He expects us to do as much good as we can, but human ability is limited. Couldn't it be said that we're sometimes too tired, too busy, or too poor to do what we think we should? Are we obligated to do it anyway? Will we be held accountable for every time we notice an opportunity to do good, but don't take that opportunity?

I'm afraid that we may be. God puts opportunities in our path, hoping that we'll take those opportunities to do good, partly so we can bless others, and partly so He can be justified in blessing us. When we don't take those opportunities, I feel like we're letting Him down. Still, "obligation" is a strong word. I'm sure that God doesn't want us to beat ourselves up over every opportunity we pass up. Sometimes, we have good reasons not to do the good things we could think of doing. For example, I could go to the Bishop's Storehouse tomorrow morning to volunteer for a few hours, but I have homework to get done. Is this a "good, better, best" scenario, or could it be said that I don't really have an opportunity to go to the Storehouse? I mean, I could do it, but I also have to do my homework. If I could do both, I probably should, but I'm not sure I'll have time. Plus, I don't feel like I'm obligated to go to the Storehouse tomorrow morning.

I think that's a good determining factor to tell me whether this new mantra applies to a given situation. If God really wants me to do something, He'll probably make me feel like I should, just like He did earlier today. The Holy Spirit is good at reminding us of applicable quotes and scriptures. If I see an opportunity to do good, and I find myself thinking "An opportunity to do good is an obligation to do good," then I'll probably do it, just as I did today. I'm not sure yet whether this'll become a permanent thing that always applies to me, a personal mantra I spend the rest of my life trying to live by, but I see that kind of potential in it. It's a good thought, it may even be true, and I feel like it may have been inspired by the Spirit. Hopefully, the Spirit will give me the discernment to know when God wants me to do good, without making me feel obligated to do as much good as I possibly can. I'll admit that I should do as much good as I can, but I really hope God doesn't actually expect me to.

Okay, hold on! I was going to conclude with that, but then I thought of how horribly lame that is. "I really hope God doesn't actually expect me to do as much good as I can"? What, am I trying to give myself permission to not do as much good as I can? To hold back, to be lazy, to not live up to my potential? I'm a Paladin! I don't look for excuses; I pray for strength! EVERY opportunity I have to do good IS a personal obligation to do good.

I just pray that God will grant me the will-power to meet those obligations. I am far too weak far too often. Maybe facing a challenge like this head-on will make me stronger. And even if it doesn't, at least I'll have gotten some good done; more than I might have before I adopted this mantra, at least. And I'm sure it'll help me have the Spirit with me more often, which I'll definitely need to give me the discernment to recognize when I have the opportunity to do good and when I don't. If I actually don't have the time or energy to do something, I'm counting on God to tell me that. With His help, I hope not to make too many bad decisions in foolish attempts to do good. Anyhow, I'm going to try to follow this mantra. Not sure how well it'll work out. I'll try to keep you posted on that. In the meantime, what I most feel like I should do right now is going to bed.

Follow the Light

Now, I think, I should probably blog about Elder Clayton's talk itself. He began his talk, Choose to Believe, by sharing the tragic story of a girl who survived an airplane crash and got help by walking about a mile over "very rough terrain," "wading through creeks, crossing ditches, and braving blackberry briars," on "a cold, rainy Kentucky's winter's night," "wearing only shorts, a T-shirt, and one sock." The story of her survival is as inspiring as it is heartbreaking, but the focus of Elder Clayton's talk was, surprisingly, not on the challenges we face in mortality, but on the one thing that can get us through them. As the young girl trudged across unfamiliar ground in the dark and icy rain, there was one thing that gave her a sense of direction - a distant light and the hope that when she reached it, she would find help.

Our lives are rarely so discouraging as the long night that girl faced, but whether our futures look just as dismal or comparatively rosy, there is a light in the distance, and it shines beyond the brightness of whatever light we may be in now and beyond whatever darkness we may have to pass through to reach it. Whether we are comfortable or wretchedly uncomfortable, we need to summon our courage and follow that light.

As the girl followed the light, there were times when the light was hidden from her view by a hill or a clump of bushes, yet, even when things seemed utterly dark, dreary, and hopeless, she pressed forward in the direction in which she had last seen the light, trusting that if she kept moving in the right direction, she would see the light again and eventually reach it. In our lives, it's sometimes the case that we can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, but when that happens, we must not give up and remain in the tunnel. There is a light ahead of us, and we can reach it, but to do so, we must be steadfast and exercise faith, if only in our memories of having once seen the light.

Mortality is fraught with challenges - few as desperate as that of the girl, but still, faith and courage are both needed to face them. Thankfully, we have felt the Spirit confirm to our hearts that there is a purpose to God's plan. We have seen the light, and though we may not be able to see it all the time, we know that it's there. Let us exercise our faith and put forth every effort required to follow the light we've seen. There is hope and help ahead of all of us, even if we have to face a long, hard walk to reach it.

Faith To Not Be Healed

Elder Clayton's talk will still be there tomorrow, but on the homepage at LDS.org, there's a link to an interesting article, and I know that link won't stay there forever. The one I provide here should last longer. The article, from the current Ensign and Liahona magazines, is called The Power of Faith, but it speaks of an experience when a woman's faith, though strong, wasn't enough to guarantee that she'd be healed from a chronic ailment. She struggled with this for a long time, wondering if her faith wasn't strong enough and what else she could do to make it stronger. Eventually, she made peace with the problem and discovered an important spiritual truth: Sometimes, it's not God's will to heal us.

God sent us to earth to gain experiences that we simply couldn't get in heaven. The main difference between earth and heaven is that heaven is perfect, free from all evil, sorrow, and suffering, and earth isn't. On earth, we can have pain, get sick, and experience sin. We can be tempted and face hardship. Mortal life is full of challenges, and those challenges give us strength that we couldn't get any other way.

A quote from President Spencer W. Kimball, shared at the end of the article, asks:

Is there not wisdom in [Heavenly Father] giving us trials that we might rise above them, responsibilities that we might achieve, work to harden our muscles, sorrows to try our souls? Are we not exposed to temptations to test our strength, sickness that we might learn patience, death that we might be immortalized and glorified?

As Amber Dahl, the author of the article, succinctly said, "If Heavenly Father were to free us from our challenges simply because we asked, He would deny us the very experiences necessary for our salvation." We need our challenges because they make us stronger, better people. Our struggles help us become more like God. Without them, we could never reach our true potential. If God were to remove our challenges before we're done learning from them, He would be negating the reason we came here. It's not always the case that we need to have enough faith to be healed; Sometimes, we need to have enough faith to understand that our struggles are doing us some good and to be patient. Sometimes, it's not the faith to be healed that we need, but the faith not to be healed, and to be okay with that.

We all have challenges in life, and the reason I clicked on the link to this article is that I have a challenge that I'd like God to remove, but maybe it's God's will that I struggle with this challenge a little longer. It's entirely possible that I haven't yet gained the strength this challenge is supposed to give me. Maybe there's more wisdom I need to gain from this experience, or more Christlike attributes I need to develop. Maybe I need to gain more empathy for others who suffer. Whatever the reasons are, it seems to me that this challenge is something that I'm going to be stuck with for a while, but maybe, in the eternal scheme of things, that's a good thing. If this challenge really is making me more like God, I hope it lasts as long as I need it to (but no longer). Paraphrasing Paul and the Lord, no challenges seem to be joyous, but grievous, but I have faith that my challenges will give me experience and will be for my good (Hebrews 12:11, D&C 122:7). Amber Dahl has that kind of faith, and I hope you do too. Unfortunately, it looks like we're going to need it.

Magic That Requires Faith

I'd rather not blog about anything as tragic or depressing as the story L. Whitney Clayton shared in his talk, Choose to Believe, so instead, I'll blog about faith in terms of something I'd much rather talk about: Magic.

In many fantasy worlds, magic is quite obvious and undeniable. Wizards shoot fireballs. Clerics heal wounds instantaneously. Magic swords glow when their names are spoken. In such worlds, there is no doubt that magic is real.

In other fantasy worlds, there is no magic. There may be fantastic creatures, like elves, goblins, dragons, and unicorns, but no actual magic. In such worlds, some people may believe in magic and attempt to study it, but such people are deluded or deceived, or perhaps deceivers performing magic tricks to impress spectators.

I'm more in favor of high-fantasy worlds, where magic is real, but my mom (if I understand her position on this subject correctly) is less in favor of magic, believing that magic tends to laziness, and perhaps it does. If I had the magical power of telekinesis, I'd want to use it all the time, neglecting to give my body the exercise it needs to stay strong. Also, from the point of view of someone who enjoys fantasy stories, I think that magic is too often used as the answer to everyone's problems. Too many stories use magic as a deus ex machina, or use a "loophole" in the rules of magic as a major plot element. I consider that lazy storytelling, and I much prefer stories that use worlds, heroes, problems, and solutions that we can relate to. In light of this common interest of reducing magic in stories (but still feeling reluctant to give up magic entirely), I'd like to propose a compromise - a world in which magic is very subtle, a world in which magic requires faith.

In this world, clerics wouldn't heal wounds instantly, but would pray over a wound that had already been bandaged, and the wound would heal slightly faster than it would had the prayer not been said. A defensive spell wouldn't create any force fields around anyone, but would give a person a subconscious warning that would help them block or dodge attacks. Divinations wouldn't give people visions (except perhaps in their sleep), but would give people faint impressions, like those the Holy Ghost gives us.

I'm not sure how much this would affect arcane magic. Certainly evocations (the kind of magic that creates fireballs and lightning bolts) and conjuration (the kind of magic that makes something out of nothing) are out of the question, as are transmutations (the kind of magic that changes one thing into another). The only kind of magic that will remain in this world would be subtle enough and minor enough to be chalked up to "luck." An enchanted arrow that finds its target could just be a lucky hit. A divination that tells someone where to find a hidden object could just be a lucky guess. There would be room to doubt the existence of magic in this world, and thus it would take faith to believe in it.

The benefit of requiring faith to believe in magic can be seen in the lives of the characters, especially those who do magic, as they occasionally wonder whether magic is real. If it is, where does the power come from, and if it isn't, why do so many people invest so much time learning magic? The character I'd most want to place in this world would, of course, be a paladin. He'd be somewhat new to being a paladin and he probably wouldn't have much of a religious background. He, like many others, would have some doubts about the existence of God and of the "magical" power that supposedly comes from God. He'd pray, wondering if anyone was really listening. He'd ask for blessings, not knowing whether or not he'd receive them. He'd keep the commandments, partly out of his good nature, and partly because he hopes that what he had been taught was true, or just in case it was, but he'd always wonder whether there was any point to any of it.

I'm sure there are many good reasons why God requires us to have faith, why proof-producing miracles are few and far between, why He never shows Himself (except for once or twice in Earth's history), and why the only evidence we have that any of this is true and real is the feelings we get in our hearts. Whatever those reasons are, I like the idea of tapping into them by creating a world we can more easily relate to, a world in which magic may or may not be real, a world in which magic requires faith.

Falling Among Thorns

The second kind of soil Elder Oaks spoke of was overrun by thorns. As many other speakers on this topic had noted, this ground was good for growing things - it was just growing the wrong things, so when the good seeds fell among the thorns, the thorns choked the life out of them.

I feel that I fit better into this category than the previous one. I have what I consider to be a reasonably strong level of spirituality, but there are other things in my life, mostly habits, hobbies, and attitudes, that keep me from being the kind of disciple God wants me to be. Life throws stuff at us. We're born with natural appetites, we develop attitudes, and the world provides us with an endless supply of potential interests and activities. While none of these things are inherently bad (roses and raspberry bushes have thorns, too), they can become harmful to us if they consume too much of our lives. They may be good, or maybe just "okay," but they can keep us from being our best.

Our responsibility is to weed out the things in our lives that are holding us back from our true potential. The trouble is that this is much easier said than done. Weeds are resilient. Once habits and attitudes are set, they can be hard to change or overcome, and considering that these are thorny weeds, we can expect the process of removing them to be painful. Still, since we're cultivating a garden on which our spiritual lives depend, it'll be worth the pain and effort it'll take to remove the thorns.

The parable of the soils seems to go through a progression of soils that get better and better for growing things. As we strive to improve ourselves, we may end up following the same progression. In the "falling by the wayside" state, we're not receptive to God's teachings at all. In the "stony ground" state, we let the gospel grow on us, at least superficially, but we don't let it into our hearts. In "falling among thorns," we let the gospel take root in us, but there are still things that prevent it from growing as well as it should. As we weed those things out of our lives, our soil becomes "good soil," but even then, there's still progress to be made.

Just as the good ground in the parable "brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold," there are varying degrees of righteousness. How much fruit we produce once we've prepared the soil and removed the weeds depends on how well we water and fertilize the seeds we've planted. We don't become spiritually perfect just by not committing sins. There are many good things we should be doing instead. Even after we've removed the distractions and evil influences from our lives, if we don't nourish our testimonies, they won't grow. On the plus side, if we do nourish our testimonies by doing all those things we've been told in Sunday School to do, there's no limit to how great we can grow or how much fruit we can produce.

The comforting and intimidating parts of eternal progression are that we can always improve and that there will always be room for improvement. Whatever weeds have grown in your life, they can be removed through the power of the Atonement. However small your testimony is now, it can grow through regular prayer and scripture study. However good or bad your spirituality is now, God can help you make it better. That's what I like most about this parable. I may have fallen among thorns, but I know the hand of God is helping me pull them.

Every Other Item

Earlier today, I wrote up a list of things I wanted to accomplish today. As I checked my list just now, I realized that, as of the moment I publish this blog post, I will have checked off only every other item, literally. Today, I accomplished only about half of the things I wanted to. Granted, this wasn't a complete list, and I accomplished many good things before even making the list, but there was still a lot left undone.

The reason I accomplished only half of what I wanted to do today has a lot to do with what I plan on blogging about tomorrow, when I continue blogging about Elder Oaks' talk about the Parable of the Sower. The short explanation is that I got distracted. I recently obtained a good book, and I spent most of the day reading it. Yet, remembering an iconic Elder Oaks talk, there are some things that are good, while there are others that are better. Reading the book was arguably a good thing, and it was what I wanted to do at the time, but now I wish I had done other, better, things instead.

My half-completed to-do list will roll over into tomorrow, which already has obligations of its own, and whatever I don't get done tomorrow will roll over to the next day, or the day after that. Thankfully, there are no time limits on many of these items, but they all need to get done, and most, if not all of them, could have been done today, had I not been stuck in a book. I feel like I hadn't used my time wisely - that I could have done better, and done more, if only I had had more focus.

But there's no use saying "if only," is there? All I can really do now is spend a portion of what remains of the evening crossing another item or two off the list, and then try to do better tomorrow. That's one comforting thing about the afterlife, one of the subjects of the book I read - there is always a tomorrow. And yet, we are warned that there will come a "night of darkness wherein there can be no labor performed" (Alma 34:33). There are some things that just can't be put off forever. We would do well to do them today.

I still have a few things I need to do today, and I can start by publishing this blog post and getting back to work.

Roots of Testimony

Elder Dalin H. Oaks gave a talk he titled "The Parable of the Sower," though he said that "The Savior’s examples could cause us to think of this parable as the parable of the soils." Indeed, far more time in the parable is spent on the soils than the sower, so I've always wondered why it's called the parable of the sower rather than the soils. But I digress.

The first kind of soil Elder Oaks talks about in detail is the stony ground. The seeds that fell here were unable to grow because, as the Savior explained, "it had no depth of earth: but when the sun was up, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered away" (Mark 4:5-6).

Jesus explained that this describes those “who, when they have heard the word, immediately receive it with gladness,” but because they “have no root in themselves, … when affliction or persecution ariseth for the word’s sake, immediately they are offended” (Mark 4:16–17).

 The root in this parable refers to one's testimony. Elder Oaks went on to say that there are many reasons why a convert, or even a life-long member of the church may be lacking in testimony, and he made it clear that "spiritual food is necessary for spiritual survival." Without a strong testimony, we won't be able to endure the storms of life with our faith intact. "In an age dominated by the Internet, which magnifies messages that menace faith, we must increase our exposure to spiritual truth in order to strengthen our faith and stay rooted in the gospel."

We need to make sure our hearts are open to spiritual truths so they can take root in us and strengthen us against the challenges of mortal life. If we are to endure to the end, our testimonies will need to be as strong as we can make them. Thankfully, it doesn't take much time or effort to do the daily things necessary to keep our testimonies strong. Daily morning and evening prayers and daily scripture study is a great start. Regular fasting and worship will help a lot. But here's the trick - It's not so much what you do that will strengthen your testimony, but where your heart and mind are when you do them. When we take the Sacrament each week, are our thoughts focused on the Savior, or are we thinking about other things? Do we take time to ponder the scriptures we read? Are our prayers sincere? It may be that we are already doing all the right things, but unless we're doing them with the right heart, they may not be doing us much good.

On the positive side,we can be doing things that are (or seem to be) totally unrelated to the gospel, such as going about our daily lives, but if we reflect on spiritual things while we go about our business, we can use that time to continue to nourish our spirits and strengthen our roots, even as we perform mundane tasks.

Whether we're actively doing things to strengthen our testimonies, or whether we're working on more temporal goals, we should try to think of the Savior as much as possible in order to make sure our testimonies grow and remain as strong as we'll need them to be. The world, for the most part, is a desert when it comes to spirituality. To endure in this desert, we're going to need strong, deep spiritual roots.

"As a Hen Gathereth Her Chickens"

As we were reading 3 Nephi 10 for family scripture study, Mom pointed out to my brother and I that Christ said that He would gather the house of Israel "as a hen gathereth her chickens." She asked, "How does a hen gather her chickens?" Then she answered, "She calls and they come." If chicks don't come when their mother hen calls them, there's not much the hen can do to protect them. Similarly, God and Christ would like to offer us some protection from the fallen world we live in, and more especially from ourselves, but unless we answer their calls by repenting and keeping the commandments, there's not much they can do to protect us, especially from our own sins. We have the agency to choose right or wrong. God has taught us the difference, and given us consciences so we can feel the difference, and encourages us to choose the right. After that, it's up to us. We can choose to follow Christ, or we can choose not to. Our choice is the only factor that determines whether we end up under the protective wing of a mother hen or under the deadly talons of a diabolical hawk.

Ascending Together - Complete, Don't Compete

My favorite part of Sister Burton's talk is when she talks about how men and women were made to complement each other and complete each other, rather than competing with each other:

In a chapter about families, the Church handbook contains this statement: “The nature of male and female spirits is such that they complete each other.” Please note that it does not say “compete with each other” but “complete each other”! We are here to help, lift, and rejoice with each other as we try to become our very best selves. Sister Barbara B. Smith wisely taught, “There is so much more of happiness to be had when we can rejoice in another’s successes and not just in our own.” When we seek to “complete” rather than “compete,” it is so much easier to cheer each other on!

In our society and in human nature, there is a tendency toward pride and competition. Pride says that if there is a winner, there must be a loser. Some people pit men against women, claiming that men are "better" than women, or that women are just as good (if not better) than men at everything. In reality, men and women were meant to work together, not against each other. In fact, that's the only way any of us "become our very best selves."

Like the two angels from yesterday, none of us can succeed on our own. We all need help from each other, or at least the Savior, to meet our potential in mortality, and we will each eventually need an eternal companion in order to reach our eternal potential. Then, rather than tearing each other down, we should all be trying to lift each other up. If we do, we can truly ascend together all the way up to the Celestial Kingdom.

Ascending Together - Left- and Right-Winged Angels

Sister Linda K. Burton's talk, We'll Ascend Together, speaks of how the roles of men and women compliment each other. Men and women are not the same. In fact, there are many key differences that affect our roles in God's plan. Yet, our differences were carefully designed so we could balance out each others' strengths and weaknesses and support each other in marriages and in families.

Some people in our culture are placing less importance on the distinction between men and women. Some argue that a person should be able to choose whether he or she is male or female. Some say that marriages do not require one man and one woman, but could function equally well with two men or two women. After all, if men and women are equal, one should be interchangeable for another, right?

I believe that men and women, while being equal in many ways, are also unequal in some ways. Some of these inequalities are biological and measurable. Others are spiritual and intangible. As far as I'm concerned, it's enough to say that men and women are different, and their traits vary from each other in such a way that they compliment each other, compensate for each others' deficiencies, and support one another.

The proverb from which Sister Burton's talk takes its title reminds me of an image of two angels, each having only one wing. Since one angel had their left wing and the other had their right wing, the two were able to fly together by leaning on one another and flapping simultaneously. This arrangement only worked because their wings were on opposite sides. Can you imagine a bird or an angel trying to fly with two left wings or two right wings? If two left-winged angels leaned on each other and flapped at the same time, I think they would fall over or, at best, fly in circles. When two opposite-winged angels pair up, however, I can actually imagine them being able to take flight together.

In a similar way, men and women were made to lean on one another, support one another, and lift each other up. No, men and women are not the same, but that doesn't mean that either is less valuable or less essential than the other. Winged creatures need both a left and a right wing to fly. Only when a man and a woman work together in harmony can a marriage truly soar.

True, Enduring Love

Those who were paying attention in the Saturday Morning Session of this General Conference may have noticed a particular theme to many of the talks. In fact, three out of the six Saturday Morning Session talks were about  marriage, parenthood, and families, including President Boyd K. Packer's talk, The Plan of Happiness. President Packer's focus on that message is that love that lasts through the ages is sweeter than young love that is yet to be tested:

And if you suppose that the full-blown rapture of young romantic love is the sum total of the possibilities which spring from the fountains of life, you have not yet lived to see the devotion and the comfort of longtime married love. Married couples are tried by temptation, misunderstandings, financial problems, family crises, and illness, and all the while love grows stronger. Mature love has a bliss not even imagined by newlyweds.

This message flies in the face of many movies, including the old Disney classics like Sleeping Beauty. In Sleeping Beauty, Princess Aurora is cursed with an eternal sleep from which she could only be woken by "true love's kiss." That kiss came from Prince Philip, who had met Princess Aurora no earlier than the day before, and had spent no more than a few hours with her. The idea that true love could be developed in the span of only a few hours is laughable, and Disney certainly poked fun at that idea in their recent movie, Maleficent.

However, the movie in which Disney most clearly highlighted the difference between true love and romantic infatuation is their slightly-less-recent movie, Frozen. In Frozen, Princess Anna is cursed so that she'll soon turn to solid ice unless the curse is broken by an act of true love. It is suggested that a true love's kiss could break the curse, so Prince Anna goes to Prince Hans, whom she had known for only a few hours and whom she had felt an instant attraction to. It's something of an understatement to say that that plan didn't work out. Plan B was to kiss Kristoff, with whom Anna had spent more time and with whom a more sincere relationship was forming. However, if you watch the sky carefully as the movie progresses, you'll notice that Anna and Kristoff had spent no more than a single day together. It is not revealed whether a kiss from Kristoff would have counted as a "true love's kiss" because the curse was ultimately broken by a love more like the one President Packer described, one that had been tried by misunderstandings, hardships, and family crises.

Just as a person grows stronger by facing hardships, a relationship grows stronger when people who love each other face hardships together. Young love is a beautiful thing, but we've been told by one who knows that enduring love is even better. His message was that we should keep ourselves clean, pledge ourselves to each other, and work together to make our relationships last. This, unfortunately, is not always possible, but to those whose marital or spiritual status is less than ideal, President Packer offered these words of comfort:

God is our Father! All the love and generosity manifest in the ideal earthly father is magnified in Him who is our Father and our God beyond the capacity of the mortal mind to comprehend. His judgments are just; His mercy without limit; His power to compensate beyond any earthly comparison.

His love for us has endured through all the ages of the earth, and it is the strongest, purest love the world has ever known. It is at least the equal to the love of Christ, who suffered tremendously and died for us. If any love has ever been true, His is. And the best love we can have for each other is the kind of love He has for us - not the short-term excitement of a storybook romance, but the kind of love that endures.

Deciding it Was a Good Day

I don't think this quote is from this General Conference, but it's relevant to something I could blog about, so I think I'll share it anyway.

Today was a good day, partly because I decided that it was a good day.

It started with some homework, but it was quick and easy, so thank goodness for that.

I'm waiting on two of my teachers for information about upcoming assignments, but since I don't have to (or can't) do those assignments until I get that information, not hearing from my teachers means that I don't have to worry about those assignments yet.

I went on a errand and had bike trouble, but it safely alerted me of a potentially dangerous problem, enabled me to discover an alternate transportation option, and the timing may work out to get a good new bike for cheaper than I'd have expected.

I watched a movie that wasn't quite as good as I expected, but it had some good parts, so I should really focus on that.

Mom and I went to a meeting that ended up not happening, and we could have been bitter about time wasted in traveling, but instead we used that time to talk about the movie we had just watched, what was good or bad about it, and how we might have changed it.

With the unexpected free time we were given, we mowed the lawn and pulled weeds, which, while not one of my favorite chores, wasn't too terrible, and it improved the appearance of our yard.

For dinner, we had hamburgers and I had mine with cheese. The cheese melted all over the burger and made a mess, but it still tasted good, and Mom assured me that it probably wouldn't be too hard to clean up.

And right now, the computer is being very slow, probably too slow for a youtube video I wanted to watch, but at least it seems to be working well enough for me to blog, and I can always watch the video later.

All in all, it was a decent day. It could have been better, but it was still alright. And part of what made this a good day was me deciding that it was a good day. And you know what? No matter what happens tomorrow, tomorrow will be a good day, too.

How to Succor Everyone

It's not often that General Conference includes two consecutive talks by the same speaker, but that's what happened this time. This Conference, President Eyring gave two talks in a row, though there was about a week between them. In the first talk of the Saturday Morning Session of Conference, "Is Not This the Fast That I Have Chosen?", President Eyring gave the quote that I shared half a week ago: "When we offer succor to anyone, the Savior feels it as if we reached out to succor Him."

The problem, as President Eyring went on to say, is that many of those who suffer are beyond our personal reach. Some of them live in far-away countries racked by storms, famines, or war. Some of them suffer silently, telling no one of their plight except their Bishops. How can we help them?

The answer, as the title of President Eyring's talk suggests, is by fasting. We can fast for their suffering to be alleviated, but we can also then be the answer to our own prayers by giving a generous fast offering. The funds from our fast offerings are used to help the needy around our neighborhoods and around the world, "whose sorrows He [the Savior] feels," and "whose relief the Lord will feel as if it were His own."

We can't reach everyone ourselves, but our collective fast offerings can. Fast offerings have reached suffering saints in Vanuatu and Sierra Leone, not that I know where either of those places are, as well as those suffering in the four corners of the Earth. By giving fast offerings, we can be part of a worldwide effort to help people all over the world. As Christians, and as human beings, we have a natural desire to help others. Our fast offerings allow us to extend the help that we can give to anyone who needs it, anywhere in the world. It is truly an inspired program and it brings miraculous blessings, both into our lives and into the lives of God's children everywhere on Earth.

Comforting with the Comforter

In President Henry B. Eyring's General Women's Meeting talk, The Comforter, he spoke of the general struggles people experience in life and of our desire to help others.

The burdens His faithful servants must carry in life are made lighter by His Atonement. The burden of sin can be taken away, but the trials of mortal life for good people can still be heavy burdens.

You have seen such tests in the lives of good people you love. You have felt a desire to help them. There is a reason for your feeling of compassion for them.

You are a covenant member of the Church of Jesus Christ. A great change began in your heart when you came into the Church. You made a covenant, and you received a promise that began changing your very nature.

The covenant that President Eyring was referring to is found in Mosiah 18: 8-9, in which Alma the Elder offered baptism to those who were willing to "bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light," "to mourn with those that mourn," and "comfort those that stand in need of comfort."

That is why you have a feeling to want to help a person struggling to move forward under a load of grief and difficulty. You promised that you would help the Lord make their burdens light and be comforted. You were given the power to help lighten those loads when you received the gift of the Holy Ghost.

The Holy Ghost is often spoken of as "the Comforter," but it's not the only one. When we have the Spirit with us and we reach out in genuine love for others, we can carry the Spirit to their hearts, bringing the Comforter to them. In that way, we ourselves become comforters. Though it's impossible for us to know exactly how others feel or what would be best to say to them or do for them, God knows. God is intimately familiar with everybody's pains and struggles, and He knows how to alleviate them. When we follow the guidance of His Spirit, we can be inspired to know what to say and how to help. Through the gift of the Comforter, we can assist the Lord in blessing others, just as we have been blessed by the presence of His Spirit.

Compassion is a gift from God. It may even be a "Gift of the Spirit." And it's through the Gift of the Holy Ghost that we are able to more capably act on our desire to comfort others. God sent us His Spirit to comfort us, but He also sent it to help us learn how to comfort each other.

Defending the Family

The next two Conference talks, Sister Carole M. Stephens' The Family is of God and Sister Bonnie L. Oscarson's Defenders of the Family Proclamation speak about the family. This isn't terribly surprising, as women (if I may apply this stereotype to women) love talking and hearing about families. Yet, these talks are especially timely because this year marks the 20th anniversary of The Family: A Proclamation to the World. Sister Stephens said, "Twenty years ago, the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve Apostles reached out to the entire world when issuing a proclamation on the family. Since then, attacks on the family have increased."

She, and especially Sister Oscarson then spoke of the need for us to defend the sanctity of the institution of the family, especially as the world in general places less and less value on the family, the definition of marriage, and the roles of fathers and mothers. Sister Oscarson taught:

There are three principles taught in the proclamation which I think are especially in need of steadfast defenders. The first is marriage between a man and a woman. ... The next principle which calls for our defending voices is elevating the divine roles of mothers and fathers. ... The last principle we need to stand and defend is the sanctity of the home.

She speaks of each of these in detail, which I don't have time to also do, but I would like to add my testimony of the value, truthfulness, and importance of these things. God has ordained marriage as being between one man and one woman. Any marriage that is not between a man and a woman is not a true marriage at all, no matter what the legislature may say.

While I'm on the subject of men and women, I'd like to add that gender is not a thing that any person can choose. A woman cannot choose to be a man and a man cannot choose to be a woman. The family proclamation also says that our gender is part of our eternal identity. Even surgery cannot change our eternal identity.

Our unique qualities as men and women prepare us for our divine roles as fathers and mothers. Society places too little value on motherhood and too little value on homes these days. We need to maintain our stance that "There is no greater honor, no more elevated title, and no more important role in this life than that of mother or father," and "We need to take a term which is sometimes spoken of with derision and elevate it. It is the term homemaker" (Oscarson). Blessed and talented is the woman who can turn a house into a home. My mother is one of those women, and the value of what she does is inestimable.

The world can (and will) think what it wants about marriage, parenthood, and homes, but as for me, I'm going to try to give those things the great level of respect they deserve. Families are a central part in God's plan. In my opinion, that practically makes everything related to families sacred, including homes, marriage, and the divine roles of parents.

Filled with the Spirit and with Gospel Truth

Since the talks from the General Women's Session of Conference are listed first this year (which makes sense, if you ask me), and they have the text of those talks available for easy reading and quoting, I think I'll start blogging about them and go chronologically from there. The first talk of this General Conference was Sister Cheryl A. Esplin's talk, Filling Our Homes with Light and Truth. In it, she shared a visual illustrating the difference in integral strength between and empty soda can and a full one, then she drew this comparison:

We likened this demonstration to our individual lives and to our homes and families. When filled with the Spirit and with gospel truth, we have the power to withstand the outside forces of the world that surround and push against us. However, if we are not filled spiritually, we don’t have the inner strength to resist the outside pressures and can collapse when forces push against us.

In this blog, I frequently post about the trials of life and the need for the ability to withstand those trials. In this lesson, Sister Esplin said that we can withstand such forces if we are "filled with the Spirit and with gospel truth." Remaining filled with the Spirit can be difficult, as the Spirit of the Lord is easily driven out of our hearts by unclean thoughts or actions. Thankfully, filling our minds with gospel truth is easier - as easy as remembering the words of a favorite scripture or hymn - and it can invite the Spirit back into our hearts.

From my personal experience, I know that I'm far more capable with the Spirit's help than without it, and remembering spiritual truths can help me put my trials into perspective and resist temptation. The strength the comes from being "filled with the Spirit and with gospel truth" is one of the blessings of the gospel that we can have in our lives constantly. It takes effort, but only so much effort as thinking of a spiritual truth whenever we need extra strength. The truth I'll carry with me today is that God is always there to help me when I need Him. In His strength and with His Spirit, I can withstand anything.

Back Into the World

Spring Break is over. General Conference weekend is over. Now, we have to go back to school or back to work, back to real life, almost as if we were waking up from a dream. Yet, even as we return to the daily grind, we should try to remember the lessons we learned this weekend. It's hard to remember dreams, but we can at least hold on to one or two principles. Perhaps they'll help us make it through the workweek.

Over the course of the next few (or several) months, I'll be revisiting this season's General Conference talks in my blog posts, which should help us to refresh and retain our memories of the lessons we learned this weekend. But for now, hold on to what you can remember. Check your notes if you get the chance. We're going back into the workweek now, but maybe we can take a little piece of the weekend with us.

How to Succor Christ

When Jesus Christ accomplished the Atonement, He took upon Himself all the pain and suffering any person would ever feel. Then, doesn't it make sense that He would also be able to feel all the relief anyone would ever feel, if only by experiencing the moment when the pain lessened or stopped? I'm not sure how I never thought of this before, but it's a wonderful thought. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus felt an extraordinary amount of pain. It's marvelous to think that we can help alleviate some of that pain by bringing comfort to anyone who suffers. In honor of Easter and all Christ has done for me, I'm going to keep my eyes open this week and hopefully find someone I can comfort or help in any way, especially now that I have a slightly better understanding of what He meant when He said "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my bretheren, ye have done it unto me." (Matt 25:40)

Self-Inflicted Afflictions

The other night, after a fit of unsuccessful attempts to dislodge the steak from my esophagus, I commented that it's staggering how many of life's problems are caused by our own stupidity. How many times had I been told to take small bites and chew thoroughly? Yet, I made the dumb move of swallowing something that I couldn't get down, and that then refused to come back up. That was an unpleasant experience, and it was all my fault.

Life is full of unpleasant experiences. Sometimes, they're caused by natural circumstances. Sometimes it rains when you don't want it to. Sometimes it doesn't rain when you need it to. That's just part of how the world works, and there's nothing we can do about that.

Sometimes, life's unpleasantries are caused by other people. Often, people, intentionally or not, make our lives more difficult, just as I kept Mom in the hospital all night. We often suffer from other people's choices, and there's not much we can do about that, either.

But when the problems in our lives are of our own creation, there is often something we can do about them, or at least to prevent them from continuing in the future. I seem to have an unusually stiff esophagus. There's not much I can do about having that condition, though there are some treatment options available, however, there is a great deal I can do about avoiding complications in the future. Namely, I can chew my food more carefully.

In cases of self-inflicted afflictions, we can most often avoid those problems by simply being more careful, by thinking things through before acting, and by trying to follow inspiration. Life is full of problems that we can't avoid. The least we could do for our own sakes is try to avoid creating more problems for ourselves. I know that God doesn't want us to suffer any more than we need to, and neither do we. We can reduce the afflictions we have to face in life by trying very hard to not make more afflictions for ourselves.

Christian Country Music

As we were driving back down from Washington, Mom and I heard a Country song which, from the lyrics we could hear, sounded like it had a good, patriotic, family-oriented, Christian message. Mom commented that many Country songs have Christian messages, and as far as I'm concerned, that's a really good thing.

It's a good thing for those who love Christian music because it gives them inspirational music that's far more entertaining and catchy than what they hear from other genres. Sometimes, while riding in the car with my brother, we listen to a Christian rock station, which is inspirational enough, I guess, but the lyrics of most of those songs are very weak. Sometimes, those songs rely on an excessive amount of repetition to fit rhyming patterns and to fill time. Mom and I encountered some of that as well, and it strained our patience for the Christian music station. In contrast, the Christian Country music we heard on the Country music stations was both uplifting and fun to listen to.

Christian Country music is also a good thing for those who like Country music because it gives them spiritual thoughts to chew on as they listen to the music that they love. A lot of non-Christian Country music has lyrics involving smoking, drinking, hooking up with people, and cheating on people. Some Country music glamorizes vices. In fact, one of my favorite Country songs is about a man who commits insurance fraud to fuel his smoking habit. That's not exactly the best role-model to follow. In contrast, I listened to a handful of Christian Country songs this morning that encouraged me to resist temptation and to leave this world a better place. We are influenced by the music we listen to. The more Country music lovers who hear inspiring, Christian messages, the better of the world will be.

I am very much in favor of making Christian music accessible and appealing to more people, and I'm also in favor of giving Country music lyrics with clean, uplifting messages. I'm not sure what makes Christian and Country music work so well together, but I'm glad it does. It gives me music that's both uplifting and fun to listen to, which is something I don't hear hardly anywhere else.

The Good News 2 - Still Breathing

Two years ago, I got a piece of chicken stuck in my esophagus and had to have it surgically pushed down. Last night, it was a piece of steak. Much of "The Good News" I blogged about on April 19, 2013, still applies especially including the parts where I miraculously maintained my ability to breathe and that I woke up this morning. This morning, I'd like to focus on how much of a blessing that really is.

God didn't call me home last night, which was a tremendous miracle because I really wasn't ready. I have a few more faults to overcome before I kick the bucket. If I had died last night, that meeting with God would have been... interesting. And by "interesting," I mean "at least as unpleasant as having a piece of meat stuck in your esophagus."

Thankfully, God didn't arrange that meeting. I'm still alive, still breathing, and still blogging. I've been given a second (billionth) chance to do good and become a better person. And the truth is, we all have.

If you're alive and reading this right now, you're being given another chance to repent and improve yourself. No matter how good or bad yesterday was, today can be better. If there's anything unresolved in your life, you have time, right now, to resolve it. If there's anything you really need to get taken care of before you die, now might be a good time to do it.

It's possible that my Eosinophilic Esophagitis will be the death of me, possibly sooner than I think, or maybe I'll get hit by a bus long before then. Who knows? I just know that I'm going to die eventually, so I'd better get myself spiritually ready for that moment now, while I'm still breathing.

Hymns Not in our Hymnals

The best part of attending the Life of Christ event last weekend was hearing my sister and the rest of the choir singing beautiful, powerful hymns, many of which aren't in our little, green hymnals. These, I loved mostly for their melodies. Not being familiar with the lyrics (and not always being able to pick out the lyrics from the performances due to the difficulty of producing clarity in choral performances), I may not have known exactly what the choir was singing, but it was really pretty, and I could catch enough of the words to know that they held good messages.

One song in particular spoke of being welcome in heaven not as "a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home." That really spoke to me. I've often hoped that I'd be welcome in heaven at least as a guest. I feel like I don't really belong there, but God is merciful and forgiving, so He might save a spot for me at the table anyway. But it's not like that. It's not that there's a long table that can seat so many guests; it's our heavenly family's dining room table and each seat has a name on it and one of those names is mine. I belong there, not as a guest, but as part of the family.

As I looked over the lyrics online, I found other touching messages, almost as touching as the music itself. It made me wonder why these songs aren't in our books. My first thought was that maybe some of the messages aren't quite doctrinally accurate. But I've heard Motab sing the songs the choir had sung, so I don't think that's it. It could be that we couldn't get the rights to put the music in our hymnals, and that's understandable, but then, how did we get permission to perform those hymns?

Whatever the reasons are that we had access to those hymns but don't have access to them every week, I'm glad that I was able to hear them last weekend. It reminded me that there's more good than what we usually tap into, and that there's beauty beyond what we usually see and hear. I'm grateful for the many talented people who contributed to the beauty and sacredness of that event and for the reminder of the quality of the many excellent hymns, including the ones not in our hymnals.