A Good Use for Birthdays

I recently watched the movie version of The Fault in Our Stars, which is based on a book by the same name. The story is about a young couple who meet at a support group meeting for people suffering from cancer. Toward the end of the story, one of the characters discovers that their cancer has advanced aggressively and that they are going to die very soon. As such, they arrange for their friends to speak at their funeral, and their friends hold a sort of pre-funeral for them before they die. It's a touching moment, but it's the kind of moment that I don't think happens often enough.

Elder L. Tom Perry passed away earlier today, and now LDS.org has a few articles dedicated to him and celebrating his life. I hope that he had a chance to read those article before he passed away, or have them read to him. I think everyone deserves to hear the nice things that people will say about them at their funerals.

Fortunately, my kind and thoughtful mother makes sure her children hear such things at least once per year. On their birthdays, Mom posts a Facebook status, sharing their strengths and positive traits. I'm grateful for that. Kind words lift spirits higher than expensive gifts do. And one of those, you can take with you; the other, you can't.

The bad news is that we often don't get to see our deaths, or the deaths of our loved ones, approaching far enough in advance for us to plan pre-funerals for each other. We could hold them regularly, just in case, but it would be morbid if we did. Instead, we should frequently, at least annually, say nice things about each other, and make sure our loved ones know how much they mean to us, not just so they'll have kind words to take to their graves, but that they'll have the kind of encouragement that makes life easier and more enjoyable.

A Lot of Nothing About my Bike Ride (or Lack Thereof)

I'm not sure what lesson I'm supposed to learn from the experience I had yesterday and today. This morning, my initial reaction to my mother's initial reaction is that I had been terribly thoughtless and that we all should try to be more conscious of other people's feelings than I had been.

Shortly thereafter, despite being clearly upset, Mom suggested that I might run an errand that would increase my mileage and officially put me ahead of her. All day, I had been torn with a unique moral dilemma: I felt morally obligated to do something that I felt would be wrong to do. I wanted to be helpful, and I said in a text message that I would run that errand after doing another chore, but I didn't want to do it because I thought it would upset my mom even worse, even though she had suggested it, suggesting that she'd be okay with me doing it, suggesting that she was okay with me winning, even though she had seemed not to be.

I could have blogged about the difficulty of reading people, or the thin line between friendly competition and less-friendly competition. I could have blogged about encouraging everyone to do their best, or about trying too hard to do better than other people. I could blog about relationships growing stronger after having experienced a strain.

But in the end, I'm not sure it really changed anything. I hadn't been planning on riding today, and I didn't. I ran out of time to run the errand, and by the time I get another chance, it won't matter anymore. Bike month is almost over, Mom is winning, and I'm not likely to bike any farther on Saturday or Sunday than she does, though we both want to ride over 350 miles by the end of the month, and I have more miles to go to reach that threshold than she does. Maybe she'll join me on my "catch up" ride, or maybe she won't. Maybe she'll end up with more miles than me, or maybe not. I'm not sure it matters anymore. I'm not sure if it ever really mattered.

Yes, we both joked about needing to ride hard lest the other beat us. Yes, I spent several hours yesterday trying to catch up to, and perhaps beat, Mom's score, but I didn't do it out of a desire to beat my mother at a competition. Ask anyone I've played Magic with; winning is not the most important thing to me. Yes, I'll play to win, but the desire to win is not why I play. I play because it's fun. I accept challenges to challenge myself. I rode my bike yesterday because I didn't want to give up too easily and because I knew it would be an experience.

And it was an experience. I dipped my feet in Folsom Lake, literally thanked God I found a drinking fountain before I ran out of water, and ate a sandwich on a picnic bench while looking up at a statue of the angel Moroni. There were a lot of uphills and downhills, hard stretches and pleasant rest stops, and I managed not to get myself badly sunburnt. It was a great experience. And it added up to 61.8 miles that, for a few hours at least, put me in the lead; the lead which Mom retook during her commute this morning or afternoon.

Tomorrow, I'm going to bike as far as I have to to get 350 miles by the end of the month, and if Mom wants to come with me (and maintain her lead), she's more than welcome to. I'll enjoy the company. If she decides she'd rather do something else, I strongly hope that she's okay with me going anyway, even if it puts my total miles just barely above hers. I don't care about the competition, and I hope she doesn't either. We're family. Why should we ride against each other when we could be riding together?

I'm Not Giving Up

For the whole month of May, my mom and I (and countless others) have been logging the number of miles we've ridden on our bikes, in recognition of May is Bike Month. Before the month began, Mom issued me a challenge to see which of us could ride the most miles in May. Now, with only four days left, I checked our totals and saw that I had ridden 250 miles, and Mom has ridden 300. That 50-mile difference would be really difficult to make up, especially in the short amount of time I have left, so I almost resigned myself to the fact that Mom won our little biking challenge. Almost.

But then I saw a few Facebook posts with messages of hope, sharing encouragement, and urging me not to give up, and the next General Conference talk which I was about to blog about is titled "Latter-Day Saints Keep on Trying." It's possible that someone is trying to tell me something.

So today, I'm going to go on a bike ride. I've done a bunch of chores, I've packed a lunch, and I'll put lots of sunscreen on my hands, face, and neck. I'm bringing and extra water bottle, my tube repair kit, plenty of trail mix, my cell phone, and a map of the area I'll be biking in. The exercise will be good for me, and if I hurry, I'll have plenty of time to do some more chores and take a shower (in whichever order) when I get back.

Of course, it may be hopeless. It may be that Mom's lead, plus however many miles she'll bike over the next few days, will be more distance than I can make up in that amount of time. But still, it's worth a try. And if I still lose, Mom will know that she beat someone who was still trying to beat her, right up to the finish line, and I'll know that I had given it everything I've got. I know I've got a lot of ground to cover, and I don't have a lot of time left, but that's no reason to give up trying. Even if it was completely hopeless, I don't want to develop a habit of quitting. While the results of this contest are trivial, there are some things that are too important to give up on, ever. I want to develop a habit of perseverance. So, with 50 miles to make up and only 4 days to ride them on, I'm still not quitting. I'm going to keep trying to win.

Practicing the Music of the Gospel

I don't subscribe to LDS.org's Daily Messages, but I probably should. Some of them are really good, including this one from about a week ago:

"If you’re not hearing the music of the gospel in your home, please remember these two words: keep practicing." - Elder Wilford W. Andersen, "The Music of the Gospel"

During my piano class, we had to learn to play several pieces. To accomplish that, we learned about the symbols of sheet music and we learned how to identify notes, so when we looked at a piece of sheet music, we would theoretically know how to play what was written. However, for each of those pieces, knowing what notes to play, and even hearing the music enough times to know what it sounds like and to feel its emotions, wasn't enough. In order to play those pieces well, it wasn't enough to merely know what we were supposed to play; we had to practice it.

Living the Gospel is a lot like that. None of us are perfect yet. Each of us have habits we need to break and Christlike attributes we need to develop. None of us have completely gotten where we need to be, in terms of our eternal progression. However, most of us already know what we need to do to improve. The hard part is in actually doing that.

The good news is that there's a way we can improve ourselves, and it's not some faddish trick or complicated series of steps. We simply need to keep trying. As simple as it sounds, and as frustrating as it sometimes is, persistence is the key to overcoming a surprising number of life's challenges, including the challenge of self-improvement. We can learn to recognize and appreciate the music of the Gospel theoretically, but learning to play it ourselves takes practice.

In practicing, we're bound to make plenty of mistakes, but as we keep practicing, we can learn to make mistakes less frequently, and even learn how to stop making certain mistakes altogether. That's how we attain perfection - not through some grand deed of ours or by God waving a magic wand over our heads, but by making gradual progress toward perfection, one imperfect step at a time. With enough practice, a person can learn to play a piece of music perfectly, and the same is true for living the Gospel. None of us are perfect yet, but if we keep practicing, we'll keep improving. With enough persistence, and an eternity of time to practice, we can achieve perfection.

"Many"?

Many of us are familiar with the story of the brother of Jared. Being a man of great faith, he helped lead his family toward a land that was promised to him and his family. Along the way, it became necessary for the group to have light sources, and fire wasn't an option. Having been invited by the Lord to offer his suggestion, the brother of Jared brought 16 clear stones up into a mountain and asked the Lord to touch them, expressing faith that if He touched them, He could make them glow. The brother of Jared then had an experience that, until tonight, I had thought was unique. His faith was so great that he saw the finger of the Lord touch those stones, and then, after another expression of faith, saw the Lord Himself. Apart from those who were alive during Jesus' mortal ministry, I had thought that there hadn't been many who had seen Jesus, and there certainly couldn't have been many who had such great faith that they could not be kept from seeing the Lord, as had been the case with the brother of Jared.

Yet, despite the seeming singularity of this event, Ether 12:19 says that "there were many whose faith was so exceedingly strong, even before Christ came, who could not be kept from within the veil," and who saw Jesus Christ. When I read that verse in family scripture study earlier this evening, the word "many" stood out to me. I knew that there had been a few others who had seen the Lord, but could there really have been "many" others? I don't know of many other Christ sightings in the Book of Mormon or Old Testament. A few in each, sure, but not what I'd call "many." Then again, how many is "many"? Besides, it's possible that there were people who saw Jesus who just didn't have it mentioned in the scriptures. If Nephi hadn't mentioned in 2 Nephi 11 that his brother, Jacob, had seen the Lord, we'd have never known it. Come to think of it, I had forgotten that Nephi had seen Jesus too. There are certainly more people who had been given the privilege of seeing the Lord than I had realized.

This tells me two things: First, that Jesus is real. There can't have been that many people having seen Him without Him being there to see. I can imagine a handful of people experiencing a similar delusion, but not many. Second, it's sometimes (apparently often) easy for miracles, even miracles as great as someone personally seeing Jesus Christ, to go unnoticed by the general public. God doesn't toot His own horn as often as He could. Frequently, He finds it sufficient to have a strong impact on a handful of individuals, and leave it to the rest of the world to decide whether they take notice or not. This has the effect of there appearing to be far fewer miracles than there are, and I'd assume that God is okay with that, or He'd probably be more vocal about what all He does for us. God doesn't seem to feel the need for our recognition, at least, not to the extent that He deserves. Yes, He wants us to be mindful of our blessings and be grateful for them, but His blessings to us are sometimes so subtle and private that it sometimes takes effort to take notice of them.

Also, I'm certain that not all sacred experiences were meant to be shared with the world, so there must be countless of such experiences that just aren't written in the scriptures. Plus, many sacred experiences happened after the scriptures were written, so they wouldn't have been included either, and even had it been possible for them to have been written about ahead of time, there wouldn't have been room in the books for them all. There are innumerable miracles that have occurred without our knowledge, including (judging by Ether 12) "many" people having seen Jesus.

It would seem that I have a lot to learn about how the Lord does His work. I typically picture Him making grand appearances, ascending and descending to and from heaven in the eyes of multitudes, or at least groups of a dozen or so, not privately appearing to specific individuals more times than I could count. I had thought that the experience of the brother of Jared was a rare and remarkable experience, but now I feel that, while it's still certainly remarkable, it may not have been quite as rare of an experience as I had thought.

Remembering Our Heroes

One of the themes of the Book of Mormon is "remembering the captivity of our fathers" (Alma 36:2) and "how great things the Lord had done for them, that he had delivered them from death, and from bonds, . . . and he had delivered them out of the hands of their enemies" (Alma 62:50). Today, we had an opportunity to remember the captivity of our forefathers and the great sacrifices they made to purchase our freedom. Surely, they deserve our deepest thanks and our enduring remembrance. Though Memorial Day is a day set apart to honor our fallen heroes, I think it makes sense to honor God on this day, too. We could not have fared so well in our many battles for freedom without His divine aid. He, too, deserves our thanks and remembrance, as do our living veterans, including those currently serving our country. We have many heroes to thank for our great blessings. I'm glad that we have Memorial Day and Veteran's Day set aside to remember and honor them. May God bless them for their service and continue to bless our country, and may we continue to praise and honor God, who has "delivered [us] out of the hands of [our] enemies."

The Gift of Family

This evening, we commemorated my birthday with a small family gathering. We enjoyed a wonderful meal prepared by my mother and a fabulous dessert made by my sister. We also had good conversations and played a zany variation of my favorite card game, UNO. It was a great night. No physical gifts were exchanged (unless you count the portions of the meal my siblings brought) but none were needed. Virtually anyone in the world could serve as an example of the fact that physical possessions don't make people truly happy, but a loving family can. Spending a fun and pleasant evening with a few members of my family made me very happy. Even if that had been all I had gotten or would get for my birthday, this one evening with family was gift enough for me.

Josh, the Young Paladin

Last night, I typed the word "dragon" into the search bar on LDS.org, hoping to find a list of scriptures in which dragons are mentioned. What I found first was even better. The top results were two articles and a poem from three issues of the Friend magazine. The top result of those three was a story called Josh and the Dragon.

The story begins with Josh, a kindred spirit of mine, who, having just finished a meal at a restaurant, begins to climb on a play structure with his younger brother and sister. Josh pretended that he was a knight, his sister, Anna, pretended to be a princess, and his brother, Brian, pretended to be a dragon. Playing knights and dragons on a play structure sounds like a lot of fun, and I'm sure it was, until the other children showed up.

The other children were nice enough, but they used language that children shouldn't use, or even hear. Summoning up his courage, Josh asked the other kids to stop using that kind of language around him and his brother and sister, but they didn't stop. He said a silent prayer prayer for guidance, and in his mind, he saw himself as a knight fighting a dragon, with his brother and sister standing behind him. At that moment, Josh knew that he had a duty to protect his younger siblings from hearing the foul language, so he led them away.

When the three of them rejoined their parents, their father asked them why they were back so soon. Josh explained what had happened,  and his father told him that he was proud of him for protecting his brother and sister and setting a good example for them.

Josh smiled. It was almost like he really was a knight watching over those he loved while fighting a dragon. Josh also knew he’d done more than protect his brother and sister—he had also protected himself.

I, too, am proud of Josh for his courage in making that decision. It's nice to know that there are other people in the church that are inspired to righteousness by the thought of being a knight. I had always thought that I was a little bit crazy for choosing paladins as my role-models, and maybe I am a bit old for playing pretend, but at least there's at least one church-published article that suggests that I chose a good example to follow. Judging by his thoughts and actions, I'd say that Josh was a paladin. I'm glad I'm not the only one.

Me and My Dragons

There are currently no less than ten dragons visible from my bed. One, I made out of legos (I've made extensive modifications to the original design. I think I've blogged about that. I've made another few changes since then). One was once a keychain, but I made it into a necklace. Two serve as bookends that hold a book series that I've been reading. Three are stuffed toys originally meant to be played with by dogs. And the last three are figurines, covering their eyes, ears, or mouth. In addition to that, two of my favorite T-shirts have dragons on them, my favorite Magic: the Gathering deck has ten or twelve dragons in it (depending on whether you count the Taurean Maulers as dragons) and most of my other trading card decks have at least one dragon each. Needless to say, I love dragons.

However, as awesome as I think dragons are, I have to admit that most dragons do not make good role-models. Dragons tend to be proud, greedy, violent, and sometimes vain and/or gluttonous, accounting for at least four of the seven deadly sins. Some might say dragons are slothful, too, so that would make it five out of seven. Not to mention, there's a certain scriptural "dragon" who is practically the antithesis of a role-model.

So, what does that mean for me and my dragons? The good news is that I know that dragons aren't good role-models, so I don't try to emulate them, like I do with Paladins. But, given that I know that dragons don't set good examples, is it wise for me to have so many around me? We're counseled to choose our friends carefully. Does that extend to our plush, plastic, and paper friends?

I'll have to think about this, and especially about what effects my dragons have on me. Do they, can they, help me be a better person?

One thing that dragons have always represented to me is power. Their wings give them the power to go where they choose. Their scales give them the power to withstand attacks. And their claws and fiery breath give them the power to destroy their enemies. Power, in itself, isn't a bad thing. It's really all in how a person uses their power. As such, having power and even wanting power aren't always bad things. The freedom and resilience of dragons are two aspects of dragons that are especially desirable and useful in the fight against the biblical dragon.

As for the destructive power of dragons (by far a dragon's most prominent aspect), it probably fits into the same category as the only non-armor component of the armor of God. Every Paladin, every soldier of God, needs to have some kind of weapon they can use against the adversary. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul represented that offensive power with "the sword of the Spirit," but in other places, the Spirit is presented not as being sword-like, hard, sharp, and solid, but as being like a fire, warm and bright, intangible in that it doesn't have a physical form, yet tangible in that it can be felt. Receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost is sometimes called the baptism of fire, and receiving inspiration from the Spirit is sometimes called a burning in the bosom. I think that, in many ways, fire is more like the Spirit than swords are.

Allowing fire to symbolize the Spirit creates a potent visual when considering where a dragon's fire comes from. Some say that dragons have a sort of furnace within them, which is constantly burning with an incredible heat. If fire represents the Spirit, that tells me that such dragons have powerful, constant testimonies. But even in worlds where dragons' fires aren't lit by inner furnaces, dragonfire always comes out of dragons' mouths. Many of the things we can do to invite the Spirit, and especially to invite the Spirit to touch the hearts of others, are done with our mouths, such as by praying, reading scriptures aloud, singing hymns, teaching gospel truths, and bearing testimony of them. If fire represents the Spirit, then dragons have the Spirit with them more than most other mythological creatures.

So, dragons do have some spiritually-positive aspects to them. As long as I focus on those aspects, rather than on the negative ones, dragons can have a good influence on me, or at least not a bad one, and can help me win my spiritual war against the dragon spoken of in the scriptures. At the very least, I have just succeeded in justifying my love of dragons to myself, despite knowing that dragons don't always exhibit Christlike behavior. Besides, I'm sure that not all dragons are evil, greedy, lovers of destruction. I bet there are plenty of good dragons out there, including each of the ten I can see from my bed.

"Suffer Now..."

I don't hate life, and I certainly don't hate every minute of it, but sometimes, life gets challenging. In times like that, we need to endure, which in this case doesn't mean just surviving until the trial is over; it means to keep doing the right thing, even though it's difficult. The good news is that there are eternal blessings in store for those who can endure temporal trials. Life is our training. It's tough, but that toughness makes us stronger, and that strength can stay with us forever. Endure your trials now, and you can spend the rest of eternity as a champion.

The Effects of Soda and Sin on Teeth and Eternity

When I treated myself to a fast food lunch yesterday, I happened on an interesting thought: Soda is good for my teeth. The logic went something like this: Soda is composed of acid, sugar, and artificial flavors, so it's obviously very, very bad for your teeth, so when I drink soda (which isn't often), I'm reminded to brush my teeth afterward, and brushing is, of course, good for your teeth. So drinking soda reminds me to brush my teeth, so drinking soda is good for my teeth.

Attaching a gospel analogy to this, I surmised that sin brings us closer to God in that it reminds us to repent, and repenting brings us closer to God. I figured that just as the net result of brushing your teeth after a drink of soda is (probably) good for your teeth, repenting after a fall (possibly) brings us closer to God than we'd have been if we had neither repented nor sinned. So sin brings us closer to God in the same way that soda is good for our teeth.

Naturally, I was very wrong, and here's why: You don't need to sin in order to draw closer to God any more than you need to drink soda in order to brush your teeth. You can pray and brush anyway. Sure, soda and sin may remind you to brush and pray, but the reminder isn't strictly necessary. Taking two steps forward for each step back is technically making progress, but taking two steps forward without taking any steps back helps us make even better progress. Besides, though I may play devil's advocate for the sake of argument, I'd hate to actually advocate anything the devil tells us to do. Drinking sugar-infused acid is not a good dental hygiene strategy, and sinning is not a good way to draw closer to God. Though sin and soda may have a net-positive effect on us if we repent and brush our teeth afterward, it's far better not to sin or drink soda at all.

Am I still going to drink soda again, even knowing what I know about its effect on teeth? Probably. After all, I'm only human. I also know that I'm probably going to sin again, for the same reason. But I'm not going to harbor any backwards notions that sin and soda are somehow good for me. They're not. And I'm not going to wait until I sin or drink soda again before I brush my teeth or say my prayers. We should all brush our teeth and say our prayers regularly, multiple times daily, whether we sin or drink soda or not. It's in praying and brushing our teeth that our eternal welfare and dental hygiene improve, and we don't need to (and shouldn't!) wait until after we've sinned or drunk soda to do it.

Learning to Play the Music of the Gospel

I just finished the final exam for my Piano class. Partly because music is on my mind right now, and partly because we've already heard several Conference talks about marriage and family, I've decided to skip Elder Christofferson's talk, at least for now, and share thoughts influenced by Elder Wilford W. Andersen's talk, The Music of the Gospel. In this talk, Elder Andersen speaks of the difficulty of dancing well when we can't hear the music we're dancing to. Going through the motions feels difficult and awkward without music to support the movements. He likened this to trying to live the principles of the Gospel without feeling the joy Gospel. I'd like to share that same moral, but with an analogy even more closely related to my Piano class.

At several points over the course of the class, we were given pieces to practice and play. When we were assigned a particularly challenging piece, the teacher would sometimes play the song for us, so we could know what it sounded like and get a feel for the song. This is like having someone who loves the Gospel teach us to love the Gospel, too. It's a good way to learn to hear the music, but sometimes, we didn't have that luxury. Sometimes, we had to figure the music out on our own.

We had learned to identify the notes and the various symbols on music notation so, theoretically, we could simply read the music that was written on the sheet, and play that. In practice, however, it wasn't that simple. We could pick out the right notes and hold them for the correct amount of time, but we couldn't really play the songs until we heard the music and knew what it sounded like. At least, I couldn't. Plunking out notes gave me an idea of what the music was supposed to sound like, but until I had an idea of how the song was supposed to go, I couldn't really play it. I could play the notes, but I couldn't play the song.

The Gospel may be something like that. We know what the commandments are. We've heard them countless times. We know what we have to do to live the Gospel, but if we try to live the Gospel knowing only the letter of the law, and not "hearing the music," as Elder Andersen had put it, we will falter. The good news is that even if we can't yet hear the music, or if we've gone out of tune somehow, we can sound it out. As we learn the letter of the law of the Gospel (including such commandments as "Thou shalt not kill"), we can also learn the Spirit of the law of the Gospel (including such principles as "Life is sacred; respect it"). The more we learn about the spirit of the law, the closer we get to truly understanding the Gospel, just as I was able to grow to understand a song gradually, just by hitting the keys. Only once I learned both the "letter" of the music and the "Spirit" of the music was I able to play the songs with the emotion those songs were trying to convey.

Thankfully, many of us don't need to "sound out" the Gospel because we already hear, and dance to, its music. Many of us have been raised in the Gospel, or had great mentors when we came into the church. But for the rest of us who haven't heard the music yet, or who may be slightly out of tune, we can pick up the tune of the Gospel the same way I picked up the tunes of the songs I learned in Piano class. We can learn the music of the Gospel gradually by learning how to play the keys.

The Dawn Has Come

For one young man, the long, hard night of battling cancer is now over. We still pray for his family and our hearts still ache for them, but we are comforted in the faith that their little angel is enjoying the light of a new life. One phase of his life is over; another has begun. The candle that kept burning longer than anyone expected has been extinguished, but for the soul who held that candle, a glorious new dawn has come.

Bonus Post - Why the Grass Is Greener

In my previous blog post, I used the phrase "The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." When I did, it occurred to me why that might be true. If your neighbor's grass is greener than yours is, that's probably because they water it.

If you've ever wondered how a musician became so talented, how a genius became so smart, or how a millionaire became so rich, it may be because they practiced, studied, and worked for it. Yes, there was probably some luck involved in helping them find their talents or opportunities to thrive, but even then, most of them had to work to be as successful as they are. If we're not willing to put forth the extra effort to become great, we shouldn't complain that those who are have greener grass than ours.

On the other hand, green grass can be a bad thing. During the drought in California, we've stopped watering our lawn, while others haven't. As a result, our lawn has grown to no longer be quite as green as theirs. But in this drought, I consider our tan lawn a badge of honor. It shows that we're willing to make sacrifices to conserve water. When I see other, greener lawns, I wonder how much water they spray over their lawn so their lawn could stay green. There's only so much water left in California, and it's not getting replenished as quickly as we're using it, and that's partly because some people are still watering their lawns.

Whether our grass is green because we water it or brown because we don't, the shade of our lawns say a lot about us. It shows how hard we're willing to work to improve ourselves and how much we're willing to consume so we can look good compared to others. As children of God, we should improve our talents, but we shouldn't make a big show about it. Our inner lawns should be as green as we can make them, but it doesn't really matter whether our outer lawns turn brown.

Unaware of Our Blessings

Yesterday, I watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame for the first, second, and third time. It's a good movie. The story is great, the heroes are inspiring, and the music alternates between epic and entertaining. Plus, there are probably at least a dozen blogworthy quotes and moments from the movie, including "Who is the Man?" a question raised in the introduction, which I blogged about on November 6, 2014. This morning, I'd like to blog about Quasimodo's song, "Out There," and about the blessings we have that we tend to take for granted.

Having spent his whole life cooped up in the bell tower of Notre Dame, Quasimodo sang about how much he'd love to just walk the streets, "Out there, where they all live unaware [of] what I'd give, what I'd dare, just to live one day out there." This made me think of how the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. I could easily imagine a homeless street urchin looking at the great cathedral, wishing that he had such a place to call his home. Sure enough, later in the movie, the gypsy Esmeralda  remarks on how lucky Quasimodo is to have so much space to himself.

I wonder what blessings we enjoy that we take for granted. I've never been starving or homeless. I've never been locked up or afraid for my life. I've never even gone without electricity or plumbing except for briefly, for fun. I am incredibly lucky and very blessed, but how much do I really appreciate my blessings? One thing I've been meaning to blog about for weeks now is that we have no idea how blessed we really are. As Americans, we enjoy religious freedom, relative safety, and a very high standard of living. Here, we have most of the blessings that many people in the world can only dream of. Yet, do any of us really know how lucky we are?

In his song, Quasimodo says "If I was in their skin, I'd treasure ev'ry instant," but would he? If he were raised with the freedom he craves, but still with the deformity he was born with, I think he might crave the privacy his caretaker forced on him, away from those who would cruelly mock him. If he had freedom and no deformity, he'd have other troubles and concerns, as we all do.

I think that all of us live a large portion of our lives completely unaware of the many great blessings we have. Let's try to fix that. Let's try to be aware of, and grateful for, our many blessings, rather than wishing we had the blessings enjoyed by others. There are many people who'd consider themselves lucky if they could live in our shoes. Perhaps we should consider how blessed we are rather than wishing we were even more richly blessed.

Earwigs - Moving from Good to Bad to Better

This morning, as my brother and I took down our tents from an overnight camp out we went on, we discovered that a colony of earwigs had taken up residence in the sleeves our tent poles go through. Naturally, the earwigs had to be removed, not only so we could get the bugs out of our tents, but also so the bugs wouldn't get crushed, suffocated, or starved when we rolled our tents up and put them away. The removal was probably an unpleasant experience for the earwigs, especially since we were driving them out of these lovely new homes they had found, but being returned to their natural habitat was far better for them than dying in a pair of rolled-up tents.

We undergo similar transitions more often than we might guess. Perhaps we think we know what's best for us, only to have God steer us away from it. At the time, we may not know God's reasons for moving us, but eventually we did or will learn. When we did/do, we did or will feel to thank God for his wisdom in moving us, even if the transition was an unpleasant one. God knows that a certain amount of pain and unpleasantness is preferable to suffering physical or spiritual death. God is wise and kind to move us from what we want, or think we want, to what He wants for us.

You might be going through a transition or hardship in your life right now. If you are, I want you to know that God has a reason for it, and I want to share my testimony that God's reasons are very good. It may be painful and/or terribly unpleasant now, but the pain won't last forever, yet the blessings God intends for you might. Trust God. Let Him lead you from wherever you are to where He knows you need to be. You may find that the place that God is leading you to is better than anywhere you could have gotten on your own. Jared, the brother of the brother of Jared, had faith in that principle, and acting on that principle resulted in the Jaredites being led from a land that was probably fairly decent, across a wide and stormy sea, to a land that was choice above all other lands (if it's not prejudice of me to say so). God got them to their Promised Land, and He'll do the same for you if you let Him, even though you may have to go through hardships to get there.

The First, Middle, and Last Thing to Do

Here's the second late blog post. Since it was so short, especially compared to the other late blog post, I decided to add a bit to it just before posting it.

In April, 2004, President Henry B. Eyring said “The first, middle, and last thing to do is to pray.” 

I have no trouble at all praying after something is done, either to thank God for the experience or for helping me get through it, and I don’t often have trouble praying when I’m in the middle of something and things are going badly, but the reason I so often get to that point may be because I frequently forget to pray for guidance before I start trying to do something.

How much time do I waste trying to do things my way before asking how God would like me to proceed? How many times would God have gladly helped me, but I forgot to ask for His help, perhaps because I thought I woulnd’t need it? How often do I wait until things get bad before I ask God to help me? Wouldn’t it be a lot wiser to pray for help before I badly need it?

Recently (and I mean recently as of May 15, 2015), I made a goal to pray before studying, hoping that the Spirit would guide me to study the right things and would help me remember the things that I studied. However, the thing that I consistently fail to remember is to actually pray before studying. Maybe I should pray and ask God to help me remember to pray.

Things really go so much better when we have God's help in doing them, and God's willing to grant His help more often than we might think. We just need to remember to ask for it, preferably before we mess things up.

Godly Fear Dispels Mortal Fear

Now'd probably be a good time for me to give you those two blog posts I owe you. This is the first of those two.

On April 30, I said that Elder Christofferson's talk was the next one I was going to blog about. I was wrong. It was going to be, but then I saw, on Facebook, a photo Mom had shared that reminded me of another important point to share from Elder Bednar's talk, Therefore They Hushed Their Fears. 

As Elder Bednar said toward the beginning of his talk, the world we live in is a frightening place.

In our daily lives, endless reports of criminal violence, famine, wars, corruption, terrorism, declining values, disease, and the destructive forces of nature can engender fear and apprehension. Surely we live in the season foretold by the Lord: “And in that day … the whole earth shall be in commotion, and men’s hearts shall fail them” (D&C 45:26).

However, Elder Bednar went on to say that "godly fear dispels mortal fears." Through faith in God, we can overcome any mortal fear, including the fear of the dark, the fear of death, and the fear of not being able to measure up to God's standards or our potential. Because of what God has taught us, and the peace that His Spirit brings to our hearts, we know that we do not really need to worry about anything, as long as we're trying to live righteously. We may not be able to measure up, but we've been taught how the Atonement makes up for that. Death will come to each of us eventually, but we have faith in an afterlife, and especially pleasant and glorious afterlife, if we strive to keep God's commandments. And what can darkness, or even the devil himself, do to us, if God is on our side?

God is great and powerful. He can be frightening if we think He has something against us, but God only ever fights against us when we are already fighting against Him, and sometimes, not even then. God loves us, and He always wants what's best for us. Always.

And the same universe-creating, mountain-moving, city-destroying power that the wicked may have good reason to be afraid of will be on our side if we are on God's. As Romans 8:31 says, "If God be for us, who can be against us?" Will God helping us, strengthening us, protecting us, and supporting us, what could we possibly have to fear? The only thing I can think of a truly god-fearing person being afraid of is themselves, and the Atonement can help us overcome that fear as well.

All of God's blessings are contingent on righteous living. God's favor and protection can be ours, but only if we're living righteously enough for Him to bless us. The one weakness of the armor of God is how easy it is to accidentally, foolishly, recklessly take off. God's power can protect us, but it won't prevent us from distancing ourselves from Him and giving up that protection.

But even then, through the power of God, there is hope and healing and even some protection against that threat. God's Spirit can warn us when we start to stray from the straight and narrow path. He can guide us into making right decisions and avoiding sin - the one thing that could overcome God's divine protection. As I wrote in my earlier blog post about Elder Bednar's talk, the fear of God includes obedience to His commandments. When we have that, there is nothing to fear. And when we lose it, there is still hope. Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we can be forgiven of any and all of our sins. The armor that we may have foolishly damaged or lost can be repaired and replaced when we repent. As long as we are striving to keep the commandments, including the commandment to repent, we literally have nothing to fear.

God is awesome. The power and wisdom and goodness of God are all so great that it literally fills me with awe. And it should. Godly fear is a feeling that "encompasses a deep feeling of reverence, respect, and awe." It's not that we should be afraid of God's infinite power, but that we should have faith that that power can get us through all of the troubles of life. That power has already gotten me through more than one difficult situation. I'm beginning to think that I have faith that God can get me through anything.

When Life Gives You Lemons...

When Cave Johnson, the fictional former owner of the equally fictional Aperture Science company, became deathly ill, he initially decided to make the best of it, to take lemons and make lemonade, but he quickly changed his mind. Eventually, a frustrated Mr. Johnson said:

All right, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these?! Demand to see life's manager!

. . . And so on.

When I first heard this rant some years ago, I didn't think much of it until recently, I considered who life's Manager is.

When a person is frustrated and angry, especially at circumstances that are outside of anyone's control, there's a temptation to lash out at God. However, anger at God is never the proper response to anything, even our sorest trials. Being antagonistic toward God would only serve to tempt Him to be antagonistic against us. Furthermore, it would solve nothing. A wise parent knows the folly of giving in to the demands of a child throwing a tantrum. God is nothing if not a Wise Parent. And we are nothing if not children of God.

Getting angry at God for letting bad things happen isn't going to solve anything. I know because I've tried it, and that experience taught me a valuable lesson. God knows what we really need, and His plans are perfect. Sometimes, challenges, even painful, life-threatening challenges, are a necessary part of God's perfect plan for our ultimate happiness. When God gives us lemons, it's not because He likes watching us suffer, it's because He loves us enough to give us what we really need, even if it's unpleasant.

When we face challenges, we shouldn't lash out at God or become angry with Him. We should instead turn to Him for comfort, not demanding that He fix our problems, but asking that He lessen our problems, and/or help us be strong enough to deal with them. Each of our trials has a purpose. Try to learn the purpose(s) of the trials in your life, and you may be one step closer to alleviating them. That doesn't always work, but it's worth a shot. If nothing else, being humble and being willing to learn from your trials and let them strengthen you will make you a better person. That way, your experience can make you a stronger, wiser, more Christlike person, which is practically the entire purpose of life.

In the meantime, pain still hurts, but God doesn't intend to leave you comfortless while you endure it. He wants to comfort us and fill us with His Spirit, but because of our actions, He can't always do that. Despite being omnipotent, God can't always come to us. Sometimes, especially during our trials, we need to go to Him. Thankfully, there's one easy way to do that: through prayer. In a sense, Cave Johnson had the right idea, just with the wrong attitude. When life gives us lemons, we should go to see life's Manager, not to complain to Him, but just to draw closer to Him. There is comfort in being close to God, even if He tells us that it's not yet time for our trials to end. God isn't always willing to remove our burdens, because those are things we sometimes need, but He is always "willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort" (Mosiah 18: 9). Go to Him when life gives you trials, and He will also give you a sweet assurance of His love for you, which will enable you to take life's lemons and make lemonade.

"Acting as Such"

I had almost given up on getting a blog post in tonight. Technical difficulties.

Earlier this evening, I heard that "A prophet is only a prophet when he is being a prophet." After a quick web search, it seems that the actual quote is "'A prophet is not always a prophet' only when he is acting as such." The concept basically is that prophets do not always act in the prophetic capacity. That is, they don't spend every waking minute prophesying and preaching. If a prophet glances up at a dark cloud and remarks "Looks like rain," that isn't the voice of the Lord declaring "There shall be rain."

After I heard the quote, I (naturally) applied it to paladins. "A paladin is only a paladin when he is being a paladin," or "A paladin is not always a paladin; only when he is acting as such." With paladins, this quote takes on a different meeting. This doesn't let paladins off the hook, as it does with prophets. Prophets do not always have to prophesy, but paladins always have to behave like a paladin if they want to remain a paladin. That is what this quote means for paladins (at least, in my opinion). If a paladin wants to retain the blessings of being a paladin, he has to keep acting like a paladin. If he acts against his code of honor, he loses his blessings, hopefully temporarily. Hopefully, the wayward paladin will quickly repent and have his paladinic powers restored. If not, the loss may be permanent, and the paladin may become an ex-paladin. A paladin only retains the blessings of being a paladin so long as he is acting as such.

The same could be said for Christians. If a Christian wants to retain the blessings of being a Christian, he has to keep acting like a Christian. If he acts against the laws of God, he loses his blessings, hopefully temporarily. Hopefully, the wayward Christian will quickly repent and have his Christian blessings restored. If not, the loss may be permanent, and the Christian may become an ex-Christian. A Christian only retains the blessings of being a Christian so long as he is acting as such.

Let's all try to remember this, especially as we're deciding how we want to act. Let us always choose to act as Christians.

The Greater the Challenge, the Greater the Victory

For the longest time, I've wanted to find a good, Latin translation for the phrase "The greater the challenge, the greater the victory," just because it's an inspiring phrase and I think it'd make an awesome Latin battle-cry. As it turns out, Thomas Paine said something much like this when he wrote, "The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph." So, if "The Crisis" has ever been translated into Latin, I should definitely take a look at that.

The reason I find this so inspiring is that it encourages me to attempt and persevere through difficult tasks, knowing that if I succeed, when I succeed, it will be a great accomplishment. After I've done it, I'll know that I've done something I can be proud of - something that not just anyone could have done. Almost two years ago, I blogged about something similar, stating that when we attempt to do difficult things, we really don't have very much to lose. Either we fail at the difficult task, which is normal, or we succeed at accomplishing the difficult task, which is awesome. The greater the task the task we attempt, the more awesomeness we prove ourselves as having when we succeed. The greater the challenge, the greater the victory.

So, if life is giving you a hard time, buckle down and stay strong. Your challenges are great, but you are even greater. And God is the greatest of all. With His help, you can do anything, and it will be really awesome when you do, partly because great things are great, no matter who does them, and partly because God only gives us as much help as we need, which is less than you probably think you need. Through the power of your own awesomeness, plus whatever help God grants you, you can overcome all of the challenges in your life, which is really incredible when you consider that one of the challenges that has been placed before you is to forsake all your sins and begin to become like God.

The ultimate challenge of our lives is to become as God is, and it's also, not coincidentally, the greatest victory I can imagine. Life gives us great challenges so we can have great victories, so face your challenges prayerfully and face them head on. In God's strength, you can do anything. The challenges you face today will be the victories you will celebrate in the future. So take heart and never quit. The difficult conflicts you face now are preparing you for a truly glorious triumph.

A Tuesday Chiasmus

A Chiasmus is a literary pattern in which ideas are repeated in reverse order, in order to highlight the centermost idea. Alma 36 gives an example of a chiasmus, and so might my day today. This evening, as I washed a new mug I was given, I recalled that I washed a load of dishes this morning. Then I thought of another thing I did this evening that was similar to things I had done this morning. The more I thought about it, the more parallels I saw. Now I'm wondering where the center of the reflected similarities of my day is, and what significance that moment may have (if any).

My day began with doing some homework for an online class and doing a little bit of singing as I washed dishes. It ended with washing a new mug, after having done a little bit of singing while watching the children of several Relief Society sisters. During each of these activities (and they almost could be called activities), I found some enjoyment in completing tasks that, while still being tasks, were less difficult than I had expected them to be.

Late in the morning and early in the evening, I received guidance and correction concerning actions I had taken, and these experiences, while nerve-wracking, could have gone a lot worse. This evening, one of my supervisors at the SCC Writing Center, where I work as a tutor, watched me tutor a student, and then gave me feedback on how the tutoring session went. Though I was terribly nervous during the tutoring session, the session went pretty well. The corrections my supervisor suggested were minor ones, more like a few tips for how I could do my job better than a list of problems I needed to fix if I wanted to keep my job at all. All in all, the evaluation went well, so I guess I got pretty lucky.

I was lucky late this morning, too. (And this is my first time telling anyone about this, so I extend my apologies to those I should have told sooner.) This morning, on my way to school, I got pulled over. I ride my bike to school. Sometimes, I don't feel like letting my brakes eat up all my momentum, just so my legs can build it back up. Sometimes, I pass through Stop signs without actually stopping. The motorcycle cop informed me that I didn't even check to see if any cars were coming. But, thankfully, the cop let me off with a warning that wasn't so much of a warning of potential punishment as it was a warning of potential injury. I spent the rest of the day riding my bike almost the same way as I would have ridden a motorcycle - stopping for Stop signs, staying off the sidewalk, and even merging into traffic lanes when the bike lane was blocked. It felt more dangerous, but it was probably safer than the way I had been riding before.

Before or after my mild reproofs, I was given gifts. The late afternoon gift was the mug I washed later this evening. It's more like a thermos, really. It's tall, red, lidded, and insulated, and it has a school logo on it. Only Sac City tutors can get a mug like this. it even says "Sac City Tutor" on it. The late morning gift was a T-shirt provided by the Sac City Institute. Every so often (each semester, I think), the Institute provides a T-shirt for each Institute student. The designs change frequently, but they all say "Sac City Institute of Religion" on them. Both of those gifts were given to me by groups I've belonged to for quite some time, and they serve as tokens of my belonging to those groups. I'll be proud to wear my new T-shirt and drink from my new mug.

At this point, I'm approaching the mid-point of my day, and I'm not sure there's anything blogworthy in it. After being given the T-shirt and spending some time at the Institute, I went to the school library to study logarithms for the Math test I'll be taking tomorrow morning, after which I went to piano class, and then went to work at the library. The literal midpoint of my day seems to be piano class, but nothing really noteworthy happened then. I practiced our song for a while, then I performed it for the teacher, and she said I had it down pretty well. I still have to perform it one last time for the final (plus, there'll be a "written" exam, and then the semester will officially be over for me, unless I decide to write a bonus essay for my literature class for extra credit, which I probably won't.

So, the chiasmus kind of failed, but it also succeeded in a different way. While there's not much of interest about my piano class or studying for the math test, looking for the midpoint of my day got me to consider the many other blogworthy things that happened today: having fun even while working (and even finding the work itself fun), learning from correction that was probably kinder than I deserved, and finding out that I'm proud to belong to the groups that I belong to. Had those each been their own blog posts, their morals might have been that having fun, especially by singing songs that attract the Spirit, can make work easier, that God gives us gentle correction because He loves us and wants to see us thrive and not get hurt, and that we should pick good friends and not be ashamed to let people know that we belong to the group called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. In the end, there are many blogworthy lessons to be learned from the day I had today - just not from the middle of the day.

"Some Great Thing"

The second book of Kings tells us that Naaman was "a mighty man," "captain of the host of the king of Syria, . . . but he was a leper" (2 Kings 5:1). A maid of Naaman's wife knew of a prophet named Elisha who could surely cure Naaman of his leprosy.

So Naaman came with his horses and with his chariot, and stood at the door of the house of Elisha. 

And Elisha sent a messenger unto him, saying, Go and wash in Jordan seven times, and thy flesh shall come again to thee, and thou shalt be clean. 

But Naaman was wroth, and went away, and said, Behold, I thought, He will surely come out to me, and stand, and call on the name of the Lord his God, and strike his hand over the place, and recover the leper. 

Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? may I not wash in them, and be clean? So he turned and went away in a rage. 

And his servants came near, and spake unto him, and said, My father, if the prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not have done it? how much rather then, when he saith to thee, Wash, and be clean? (2 Kings 5: 9-13)

Ultimately, Naaman did was and was made clean, but I'm not sure we're being fair to Naaman when we say that it wasn't a "great thing" that was asked of him. He was a commander of armies, a VIP, and yet, he was hardly shown the respect a man of his stature might have expected. He had travelled a long way to see the prophet Elisha, yet he was met by a servant of Elisha instead. And the task that the servant of Elisha had given him was to wash in the river Jordan - a river that would later have historical significance, but that was arguably inferior to other rivers in terms of cleanliness. Naaman had already shown humility by taking advice from his wife's maidservant. Now, he was being told by another servant to bathe in a river that was, it seems, less clean than the rivers of Naaman's own land. No, Naaman hadn't been asked to do "some great thing," like to scale a mountain or slay a dragon. He had been asked to demonstrate a great deal of humility, which was probably a much greater task.

For many of us, expressing humility is a "great thing." I know it shouldn't be, but it is. Those who have the ability to let go of their pride, an attribute described as "the universal sin, the great vice," are stronger than most people. And those who are humble enough to follow the prophet's counsel, however simple it sounds, are wiser than most. I think Naaman did a very great thing by washing in Jordan seven times - he overcame himself.

We each have vices to overcome, and some of us have different vices than others. While, for some of us, it's easy to be humble, or generous, or forgiving, or diligent, it may not be quite so easy for others. While it may appear to be a simple thing to wash in a river a handful of times, I think it may have been a great accomplishment for Naaman to overcome his pride. So, let's not belittle the challenges or achievements of others. What's an easy thing for you may be a "great thing" for someone else. We should also not be too hard on ourselves. Things that are easy for others may be great challenges for us. Each person has different sets of strengths and weaknesses, so it really isn't fair for any of us to compare ourselves to others or to compare other people to us. We all have our own challenges, and while one person's challenges may not be such a "great thing" for another person, I'm sure it's "some great thing" for them.

1000th Blog Post and Lesson Outline

I have some exciting news, and a reason why that news isn't actually all that exciting.

THIS IS MY 1000TH PUBLISHED BLOG POST!!!

However, that figure includes blog posts from before, during, and just after my mission, not just the blog posts I've written since I've decided to blog daily. If we include only the blog posts after and including "Blog," this is my 892nd published blog post. However, there are plenty of other post-mission blog posts that are pretty blogworthy, such as Happy Father's Day and Battle for Freedom, which I should probably add to the 892 "recent" blog posts. Though, having reviewed my post-mission blog posts, it seems clear to me that not all of them make the cut. For course, not all of my post-"Blog" blog posts have been bloweorthy either. If I subtract those from the total, and add the blogworthy, pre-"Blog," post-mission, blog posts, the math gets a lot more complicated, so I'm not going to deal with all of that. This is my 1000th blog post, and that's pretty exciting.

Given that I only have a few hours left before I give me lesson, I think it's time I wrote an outline for it. The manual starts by talking about the Great Apostasy and the Restoration of the church. My lesson will start there, too, but I'll put more of an emphasis on how much of a miracle it was that the Restoration was even possible. Religious freedom was not something that was universally available at the time of our nation's founding, and we had to win a difficult war to earn it.

Then, I think, I'll transition to the three main things that we got back during the Restoration and that set us apart as a church today: Modern Revelation, Priesthood Authority, and Restored Truths. I'll talk about how much we need modern revelation to guide us in circumstances and conditions that differ greatly from those described in the Bible. Revelation is an expression of God's love. As long as He still loves us and we're still listening to Him, He'll keep speaking to us, both through His Spirit and through living prophets.

I may transition to Priesthood authority the same way I did on my blog, by saying that even a perfect knowledge of saving ordinances wouldn't help us much without the authority to perform those ordinances. I'll explain (for anyone who may not already know) that the Priesthood is passed from one person to another by the laying on of hands, and can only be given to those who are worthy and ready to receive it. In the latter end of the early years of Christianity, we started to run out of people like that, and eventually those who held the Priesthood died before they found someone they could pass it to, and the authority was lost from the earth. Thankfully, God restored it through John the Baptist, Peter, James, and John, Joseph Smith, and Oliver Cowdery. The authority was passed from Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery to others in a line (more like a chain, really) that extends to every worthy, ready, male member of this church.

The trouble is that it'll be difficult to transition from Priesthood Authority to Restored Truths. Maybe I'll use baptism for the dead to make the connection between the Priesthood and things that are taught in this church (and in Jesus' original church) but not in others. If there are converts in the class this afternoon, and I'm sure there will be, I'll invite them to share teachings that were new to them that they learned while investigating the church. Depending on what and how many responses of that kind I get, we may also look at the brief list provided in the manual.

I'll conclude with my testimony that the church is true, that it was a miracle that it was restored, and that I was blessed to have been born in it. I'll express my gratitude for modern revelation, Priesthood authority, restored truths, and all other blessings that we get from the church that we couldn't get anywhere else. This is a great church, and we receive great blessings as members of it. We should try to share those blessings more frequently than we do.

My Mother Taught Me

Recently, in honor of Mother's Day, the First Presidency and several members of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles shared a few brief messages about things their mothers had taught them. Following their lead, I'd like to share something that my mother taught me.

As I was growing up, my mom was the leader of the Ward Activities Committee. As such, "Team Robarts" would always go to activities early to set up tables, chairs, and decorations, and we'd always stay late to take those things down and to clean up. Tonight, I got an opportunity to relive part of my childhood by taking down chairs after a play that one of my nieces and one of my nephews were in. Mom took a picture of my brother and I working, and posted it on Facebook with the caption: "Of course, [my sons] helped put up chairs after the show." And yes, of course we did, because we were raised to.

My mother always taught my brothers and I to be kind and quick to serve, both by example and by giving us opportunities to follow that example. Even now in my adulthood, I can honestly say that one of the emotions I feel quite often is the desire to help others. It's natural for my brothers and I to serve others, accept volunteer opportunities, and lend a helping hand, because that's how we were raised, and I'm grateful for that.

I will always be grateful for my mother instilling service into me from an early age. Though it may be a burden sometimes, more often, it's a blessing. It's part of what makes me a basically good person, and it's one of my attributes of which I'm most proud. The most central attribute of a paladin or knight is chivalry, which essentially means service and respect. I wouldn't be who I am without that attribute. Easily one of the greatest things about me is that my mom taught me to serve.

"Thank God"

I recently overheard a conversation at school in which somebody said something that bothered me. By now, I'm used to hearing a little bit of profanity at school. People use the f-word and the s-word and the phrase "oh my God" in casual conversation there, and if I was ever offended by that, I'm not anymore. No, what upset me recently wasn't when somebody used the name of God in casual conversation. It was when they didn't.

I didn't hear the details or the context of the conversation, partly because I wasn't really listening until I heard the phrase that caught my attention. And when the phrase was said, it stood out to me so strongly that I wasn't paying attention to anything else. The phrase was "thank gosh." I appreciate that the person was trying not to say "God" too casually, but I also think that a person should give credit where credit's due. If you mean to thank God for a fortunate circumstance or turn of events, I think you should go ahead and say it.

Then again, who am I to talk? Just as with many vices I decry on my blog, I'm just as guilty as anyone. I say "thank goodness" instead of "thank God." Other people say "thank heaven," which is closer to what we really mean, but still not quite there. Why is it that we readily imply that there's someone or something to thank for our blessings, but then fail to thank, or even correctly identify, the One we should be thanking?

Part of the reason we don't say "thank God" very often is the same reason we don't use the full name of the priesthood, like the Old Testament prophets did. Simply put, we don't want to get comfortable using the names of God or Jesus casually. I pretty much agree with that. It doesn't really show God the respect He deserves if we say "God" too frequently. Then again, I've used the word "God" ten times in this blog post so far, not counting the title of this blog post or the that of the blog itself, and I think (I hope!) I've been doing so with sufficient respect.

I think that the key is remembering who we're talking about. God isn't a being who should be referred to casually. He's our Heavenly Father, our Creator, and our Eternal Judge. He is the most powerful being in the universe, and He's the source of all our blessings, for which we should frequently thank Him. I believe that we should "thank God" as frequently as we have reason to, but that we should do it with respect and sincere gratitude.

Had I been in the conversant's shoes, I know I wouldn't have said "thank gosh." I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have said "thank God" either, but I think that, in the future, I will. While it's true that we shouldn't speak of God too casually, it's my opinion that it's better to thank Him casually than to not actually thank Him at all.

The Spliced Line of Authority

Many ropes are formed of three cords spiraled around each other. If such a rope is broken or cut, the cords can unravel, but the rope can be fixed by interweaving the cords from one end or the rope with the cords of the other end of the rope. Through splicing, a broken rope can be remade.

Those who hold the Priesthood sometimes speak of being able to trace their "line of authority" back to God Himself, proving that the authority they have comes, indirectly, from God. The line began with God, who gave Jesus Christ the authority to speak and act for Him while He, Jesus, was on the earth. With that authority, Jesus Christ ordained Apostles and gave them the authority to bestow the Priesthood on others. Theoretically, had their been enough righteous candidates to worthily receive and carry the Priesthood and pass it on to others, the line of authority started by Jesus Christ at the meridian of time could well have lasted until the end of time.

Unfortunately, that's not what happened. After the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ, the church began to flounder. "Some members taught ideas from their old pagan or Jewish beliefs instead of the simple truths taught by Jesus" (Gospel Principles, Chapter 16). The Lord's Apostles tried to keep the early Christians on the straight and narrow path, but there were only a few of them and communication was slow. Rumors and falsehoods spread faster than correcting truth. "In addition, there was persecution from outside the Church. Church members were tortured and killed for their beliefs. One by one, the Apostles were killed or otherwise taken from the earth" (Gospel Principles, Chapter 16). When the last of the Apostles were taken from the earth, they took their Priesthood Authority with them. Some of teachings of Christ's church remained, but much of it was distorted or forgotten. But even if the remaining church members had a perfect knowledge of the ordinances of the church, they lacked the authority to perform those ordinances. The line of authority had been broken.

Yet, just as we can restore a cut rope by splicing it back together, God was able to remake the line of Priesthood Authority by having Peter, James, and John visit Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery to bestow on them the Priesthood Authority they had received from Jesus. With this renewed authority, Joseph Smith reorganized the church, calling new elders and apostles in a line that remains unbroken to this day. Though the line of authority had been broken, it has been remade and is now as strong as it had ever been. I believe we even have the promise that the line would never be broken again, but I can't find any official revelation to confirm that. But even if it did break again, which I'm sure it won't, God could remake it again, so the Priesthood Authority will never be permanently lost.

This is really fortunate for us because this Priesthood Authority is essential to perform saving ordinances, such as Baptism. Without the Priesthood, the church couldn't grow or function, and when Christ's original Apostles were killed, it didn't. Without the authority to baptize new members, Jesus' original church eventually ceased to exist. Thankfully, about 200 years ago, He restored it. Now, with His authority, Christ's church grows and thrives like it never had before, and I myself hold part of the line of authority that had been broken and then remade.

Founded on Revelation

The other day, an alarm on my phone reminded me that I'm giving a lesson this Sunday. The lesson is titled "The Church of Jesus Christ Today," but it uses the term "today" fairly loosely. It's mostly about the Great Apostasy and the Restoration. It's mostly about what was lost during the Apostasy, what was restored through the Restoration, and what sets us apart as a church today.

One of those things is revelation. As a picture quote my mom shared on Facebook the other day says:

The heavens are not as closed as some churches believe. God does speak to His children. Anyone can pray for answers to their specific problems, and God will answer them. He also speaks to prophets who relay the messages God has for all the world. God's guidance is a major part of this church, and really, shouldn't it be? When Jesus Christ was one the earth, He said that He would build His church on the rock of revelation (Matt 16: 17-18). And He has.

Through revelation, God restored His church to the earth, along with all of the plain and precious truths that had been lost, and He's still revealing to us the things we need to know and apply. Through revelation, He led His followers through and out of fierce persecution, and He continues to lead the church today. Through revelation, He reinstated essential, saving ordinances that are now being performed in temples all over the world.

Yet, having a revealed knowledge about saving ordinances is virtually useless without the authority to perform those ordinances, which authority is another things that was lost and restored and that sets us apart today. I plan on blogging about that authority sometime soon, or at least studying about it soon enough that I can talk about it on Sunday. Along with modern revelation, Priesthood Authority is one of the central ideas of this church and one of the things that I really need to focus on when I give my lesson. But for now, what I need to do is wrap up this blog post so I can get to my next class.

I'm grateful for modern revelation. I'm grateful that God hasn't left us to our own devices, to try to figure things out on our own. I'm grateful for His loving guidance to help us find our way back to Him. I'm grateful for a knowledge of the precious truths that He has restored (which I should also blog about and incorporate into my lesson). I'm grateful that God still speaks to His children. I'm grateful that He spoke to a farm boy in 1820, and I'm grateful that He still speaks to me.

A Gift from the Gideons

This morning, just after I arrived on campus, the Gideons offered me a free, pocket-sized book containing the New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs. I accepted the gift, partly because it would have been impolite for me to refuse and I saw stacks of such books on a table across from the person who had offered it to me, and partly because, even though I have regular access to the scriptures, I thought I could benefit from having a copy of even a portion of the Bible that I could carry with me and pull out whenever I wanted to.

In truth, I have already benefited from being given this book because it gave me something I can blog about. In the introduction of this mini-Bible, the Gideons wrote the following about the Bible itself, "It should fill the memory, rule the heart, and guide the feet. Read it slowly, frequently, and prayerfully." This, I believe, is part of the benefit of having a portable Bible. Because it's pocket-sized, I can carry it with me and "read it ...frequently." The more I do so, the more the words of Christ will "fill [my] memory." And the more they "fill [my] memory," the better they can "rule [my] heart, and guide [my] feet."

I started this blog over two years ago in the hopes that it would help me receive "more guidance, more strength, more help from God." Little did I realize that I didn't have to start an ambitious project to come closer to God - I just had to do what God has commanded us all to do since as long ago as any of us can remember: To read the scriptures regularly and prayerfully. The scriptures were written to give us guidance, strength, and heavenly help. The for frequently and prayerfully we read them, the better off we'll be. The Gideons have given me a Bible that I can carry anywhere and read as frequently as I'd like to. You probably already have something similar on your phone or mobile device. I'd encourage you to take the Gideons' advice (as well as that of every prophet that ever lived) by reading the scriptures as often as you can. There are great blessings to be found in these sacred books, no matter how small they are.

Another Day Without a Blog Post

You know what's really not fair? I now finally have another chance to actually post something to my blog here, and I'm not going to do it. I am choosing not to post a spiritual message to this blog today. Sure, I'll post May 1st's blog post and yesterday's blog post, but I'm not going to submit a blog post for today.

This isn't the first time I've made this kind of decision. In fact, a little bit over a year ago, I warned you that this might happen periodically. It hasn't happened in months, but it's happening today. Don't worry - I'll still write a blog post today - just not for this blog.

Anyhow, I should be able to post my 5/1 and 5/3 blog posts later today, so you'll get those, but you're not getting a blog post for today. Sorry.

Beyond Our Control

You may have noticed - I didn't blog yesterday. As far as I recall, it was first time I missed a day of blogging (when I wasn't camping). I've come close many times, but every day, I've been able to type up at least some kind of blog post before (or at leas by) midnight. Except yesterday. Yet, I don't consider this a break in my so-far perfect blogging streak. I would have blogged yesterday afternoon, in fact, I have the blog post I wrote yesterday saved on my computer and ready to go, but that's when we lost our connection to the internet, and we won't get it back until some time on Monday. That's why I didn't blog yesterday, and why I won't blog tomorrow, either. Because I couldn't.

In life, somethings are beyond our control. There are some problems we can't solve and some tasks we can't accomplish. Sometimes, we show up late to work because our cars broke down, or because we get terribly sick. Once, I couldn't complete a homework assignment on time because I couldn't get accurate information as to what the assignment actually was. I ended up getting a perfect score on that assignment, not just because that teacher has a lenient late assignment policy, but because it wasn't my fault that it was late.

I think that God is at least as forgiving about obligations we can't keep because of circumstances beyond our control. He wouldn't hold our inabilities against us any more than we would hold a disability against anyone else. We excuse disabled people from standing for the National Anthem when they literally cannot stand, and I think I'm justified in excusing myself from blogging yesterday because I literally could not have blogged. Sure, theoretically, I could have blogged earlier in the day, when our internet was still working, but I didn't know our internet was going to go out, so I couldn't have planned for it. My inability to blog yesterday was linked to my inability to predict the future, and God probably doesn't hold that against me, either.

But you know what? Even though I do think that I was completely justified in not blogging yesterday, I feel kind of bad as I try to explain how justified I am. In a recent blog post, I said that a Paladin doesn't look for excuses, and now I feel like I'm making excuses. Perhaps I could have blogged yesterday. Maybe the Spirit had tried to prompt me to blog when I still could, but I ignored it or couldn't hear it. Maybe this is a bad example of a time when a person is justified by their inability to meet an obligation. Maybe I'm still "on the hook" for it.

To resolve that feeling, I plan to post yesterday's blog post as soon as I can - probably Monday, along with tomorrow's blog post, and a blog post for Monday as well. As I said, I've written yesterday's blog post already, and I'll write a blog post tomorrow, too, even though I know I won't be able to post it then. Maybe, instead of making excuses, I should be doing as much as I can to meet my obligation, even though actually meeting the obligation is beyond my power. When God asks us to do something we can't do, we shouldn't just give up. We should do what we can. I won't be able to blog tomorrow, but I will be able to spend some time with God's words and write a decent blog post to be posted later. It's not quite what I agreed to do, but I expect that, given the circumstances, God will understand.