No Masks

It's been a rule of Mormon "Trunk or Treats" and "Harvest Festivals" for as long as I can remember: No masks. For a long time, I thought that was a Mormon thing, that some General Authority gave a talk or wrote a letter about the dangers of wearing a mask, and we instituted that rule in response. Now, I don't really know if there ever was such a talk or letter, but either there's a Latter-Day Saint working at a nearby Baskin Robins, or this "no masks" policy isn't just a Mormon thing, and the latter is far more likely than the former.

Today was October 31st. On the 31st of every month that has a 31st in it, participating Baskin Robins locations have a discount on ice cream cones. (I know I picked a bad time to tell you that, but you'll get another chance on New Year's Eve and pretty much every other month after that.) While I approached the Baskin Robins to get a discounted cup of whatever the flavor of the month was, I noticed a sign that said "No masks," and I wondered why they would have such a sign/rule at their shop.

I knew that Mormons had good reasons to forbid masks at their festivities, but it hadn't occurred to me that other people have good reasons to ban masks, too. People sometimes act differently when they're wearing masks. They tend to take on the characteristics and mannerisms of the person or creature they're wearing a mask of. For example, as I wore my knight costume, I found myself inclined to act more chivalrously than usual, possibly due to a phenomenon that at least one Youtuber called "enclothed cognition," which essentially means that we often act in a way that makes sense for the way that we're dressed. Since people sometimes dress as monsters and villains for Halloween, this can be a troubling phenomenon, and I can see why anyone would want to mitigate it in any way they can.

Yet, banning masks, specifically, makes even more sense than discouraging villainous attire. In addition to the effects of enclothed cognition, people have another excuse to act differently, and less morally, while wearing a mask: They can probably get away with it. While wearing a mask, one is less likely to be recognised. And if you can't identify a person who committed a crime, for example, you'll have a harder time bringing that person to justice. That's part of why masks are so dangerous and why their use is discouraged in so many places. The anonymity that masks provide can be empowering, but what it empowers is usually bad.

Hiding behind masks of anonymity has given people excuses to do terrible things, from bullying to petty crimes to horrifically evil acts, all largely because they don't have to show their faces as they do those things. However, we Latter-Day Saints know that no evil act will permanently go unpunished. Even if no one on Earth ever finds out who did what evil act, God knows. God is omniscient. From His perspective, there might as well not even be any masks at all. He can see through them just as easily as if they weren't even there. So, let's not make the mistake of thinking that we can do whatever we want and get away with it by hiding our identities behind literal or figurative masks. In fact, in most cases, it's probably best not to wear masks at all. They don't work as well as some villains would like them to, and for one particular villain, who thrives on convincing others to do evil, they work all too well.

The Shelf Life of Inspiration

I occasionally takes notes when I notice something blogworthy, to remind myself to blog about it later. Yet, when I review my lists, desperately searching for something to blog about, I often find that I no longer want to blog about those things. This has taught me an important and unfortunate lesson: Inspiration doesn't keep.

We often receive spiritual impressions to do things, like to call or visit someone or to share the gospel with someone. Often, those impressions come at a critical moment, giving us just enough time to act on the, and only if we act quickly. But if we don't act on them quickly enough, the window of opportunity may close, perhaps forever.

There are probably topics that I should have blogged about sooner. I have countless notes of possibly blogworthy thoughts that I don't consider blogworthy any more. Now doesn't seem like the right time to blog about them, possibly because the time in which I could have blogged about them has past.

Optimistically, it's possible that inspiration will strike again, so I'll keep the notes of the thoughts that I once thought might be worth blogging about, in hopes that I'll feel like blogging about them again sometime. God does believe in second chances, after all. But we don't get a second chance at everything, so it's important for us to act on our impressions the first chance we get. We don't always get to wait until it's convenient for us. We often need to act on inspiration immediately, knowing that the impression probably isn't going to last.

Mission Prep

Tonight, I attended a Stake General Priesthood Meeting. The first speaker was a young man about to go on his two-year full-time mission. Naturally, his subject was related to missionary work. Specifically, it was how to prepare for a mission, yet, he said that the counsel in his talk could apply to anyone, even those who had already gone on their missions, largely because our missions aren't over. As the next speaker said in his talk, God is always willing to give us more missionary opportunities, as long as we're prepared to take advantage of them. Besides, doing the things that would make us good missionaries also makes us better disciples and can help us prepare for whatever missions God has in store for us, whether they involve missionary work or not.

Missionary work is going to become increasingly important as people continue to question and challenge our beliefs and practices, and we'll need to be prepared to share our beliefs and our testimonies if we want to have any hope of clearing up misconceptions. But whether or not we're ever called upon to explain our beliefs or defend our testimonies, we should still do what is necessary to strengthen our beliefs and our testimonies, which is one of the key components of mission prep. Some of us have already gone on our missions, and some of us never will go on missions, but we should continue to prepare as if we were about to go on missions, because "every member is . . . a missionary," and God will need us to be well prepared for the missions that lie ahead.

The Golden Rule

So much wise, moral counsel, including the counsel we received at the Religious Freedom Conference tonight, can be summed up with the Golden Rule. Wordings vary, but it basically boils down to treating others the way you want to be treated. It's a quick shortcut to empathy, and it covers many of the DOs and DON'Ts of morality. It's not the only moral axiom to live by, and it may not even be the best one, but it's still a good rule to bear in mind and follow in one's interactions with others. We should follow the Golden Rule and show others the courtesy we'd like them to show us.

Should Krusk Kill Captain Harigan?

My current D&D character, a barbarian sailor named Krusk Bloodfist, has recently been shanghaied by a pirate named Captain Barnabas Harigan. Upon meeting the pirate captain, Krusk made his dissatisfaction with the captain's actions clear by saying, and I quote, "You've made a bad mistake, Barney. NO ONE SHANGHAIS KRUSK BLOODFIST AND LIVES!!"

That was a week ago, in the game. Since then, Krusk has been doing the work that has been asked of him, mostly to avoid punishment and keep up his impressive physical build. He likes to exercise, he knows that if he wasn't working hard on this ship, he'd be working hard on some other ship, and it keeps him from getting lashed for disobedience. The conditions on this ship aren't all that bad, either. The work isn't too difficult (at least, not for him), the food is decent, and the company he keeps is a little rough, but mostly okay. The main downside, in Krusk's mind, is the lack of pay, but he could learn to live with even that. People don't really need money; they need the things you can buy with money, like food, clothing, and shelter. If you already have all the food, clothing, and shelter you need, you don't really need any money, though, of course, more money is always welcome.

All told, Krusk hasn't actually hated working for Captain Harigan, and he no longer has any real reason to want to kill him, except for one: He said he would. Of course, this is a very bad reason to kill a person. If there was ever an oath that was okay to repent of, this would be one of them. But in Krusk's mind, this wasn't an oath; it was a threat, and he's the kind of person that feels the need to make good on his threats. If he doesn't kill Captain Harigan, that means that Captain Harigan basically got away with kidnapping him, and Krusk is too proud to let an offence that severe go unanswered.

Yet, Krusk has other reasons to be reluctant about killing Captain Harigan. First, it'd be difficult. Captain Harigan is well-equipped and has powerful friends. All Krusk has is what he has managed to steal from other pirates over the past week, plus a handaxe that someone else stole for him, and his allies are all first or second level adventurers that are similarly under-equipped. But I'm sure they could manage. If they really wanted to make it happen, I'm confident that this adventuring party could manage to kill Captain Harigan, yet there would be consequences.

The second reason Krusk is reluctant to make good on his threat is how messy it would be. If the party killed Captain Harigan, the second-in-command would become captain and almost certainly cause serious problems for the party. If the party also killed the second-in-command and/or instated a new captain in the old captain's place, it would probably be one of the party members, meaning that the party would then become responsible for managing nearly two dozen shanghaied pirates, plus some officers who were probably loyal to the last captain.

The party could avoid such complications and entanglements by escaping the ship, but that, too, would be tricky. Firstly, they don't know where they are. To find out where they are and how to get to the nearest piece of habitable land, they'd need access to navigational tools and a map. They could probably find such things in the captain's quarters or his office, or wherever, and they could probably steal a lifeboat and some provisions, but this is an extremely complex plan, and a lot could go wrong. If the party wants to kill Captain Harigan and then make their escape, they would have to plan their assassination very carefully. It would be far easier (and safer) to just not go through with it.

But while Krusk doesn't care about the moral implications of killing Captain Harigan, I do. I want to make it clear that I believe that Krusk's motivations for wanting to kill Captain Harigan and for not wanting to kill Captain Harigan are all entirely wrong. Though I, thankfully, have never had to test the strength of my conviction in this belief, I believe that people should do the right thing for the right reasons, no matter the cost. Even if Captain Harigan should be killed, Krusk's reasons for wanting to kill him are very bad reasons, mostly including pride and revenge. And Krusk's reluctance about killing Captain Harigan is equally poorly founded, mostly based on the idea that killing Captain Harigan would be too much work and that there isn't enough in it for him. Unlike most of my past D&D characters, Krusk is not a good role model.

But, setting Krusk and his misguided motivations aside, I have to wonder: Does Captain Harigan deserve to die? He is, at the very least, a kidnapper. He has also had at least one man tortuously executed for a pettier crime. Given that he is a pirate, he probably kills and steals on a regular basis, so if Captain Harigan isn't killed, he would probably go on killing and stealing and kidnapping. Were we tried in a court of law, I am confident that Captain Harigan would get either a life sentence or a death sentence. So, yes, in my opinion, Captain Harigan does deserve to die, just not for the reasons that Krusk cares about.

And that leads me, finally, to my real question: Should Krusk kill Captain Harigan? Is it morally good for a person to do a morally good thing for morally wrong reasons? Assuming that killing Captain Harigan truly is the right thing to do, should Krusk be the one to do it? Or, would killing an evil person, and thus preventing several future evil acts, be itself an evil act if one does it for evil reasons? I believe that God cares about motivation, and I don't think that God would justify Krusk in killing Captain Harigan just to get even with him. Then again, I also don't think God would justify Krusk in not killing Captain Harigan just because it's easier than killing him. I could be very wrong here, but I think that God would want Krusk to kill Captain Harigan, not as punishment for his past sins, but to keep him from repeating them.

But that's not going to happen. I can't change Krusk's character overnight. Krusk doesn't actually give a darn about what's right or wrong, and he's not going to. So the question remains. Given that Krusk's motivations are the wrong ones, should he kill Captain Harigan anyway, or would it be better, morally, if he didn't kill him, given that his reasons for not killing Captain Harigan are also morally wrong?

Next Wednesday, I'm going to play D&D again, and Krusk is going to meet up with the rest of the party to decide what they should do about their current situation. In that meeting, Krusk will discuss his reasons for killing or not killing Captain Harigan. Krusk is clearly a bit torn on the matter, meaning that the rest of the party will probably determine what the party ultimately does, but if it comes to a vote, Krusk is torn enough that I could justify deciding his vote for him. The trouble is that I'm somewhat torn as well, which is why I thought I'd turn to you to ask for your advice.

What do you think? Given his motivations for and against doing so, should Krusk kill Captain Harigan?

Set Your Sights

Yesterday, I helped a student with a paper that explored how and why people sometimes sabotage their own goals. The student's bottom line, which I thought summed up the problem quite nicely, was that people sabotage their goals by losing sight of them because they put too much focus on other things.

Many of the things that take our focus away from our main goals and desires are other desires and goals. For example, if you're main goal is to reach the top of a mountain, your progress toward that goal will be greatly hindered if you run around, trying to catch butterflies along the way. If you want to reach your destination, you have to keep progressing toward it.

Naturally, the same is true of reaching our eternal destination. If we seek the Celestial Kingdom, we can't afford to follow too many fleeting distractions along the way. It's true that we have an eternity of travel time, so if we're making any progress at all, we will eventually make it there, but we have to make sure we're actually making progress, not just wandering around or away.

In order to accomplish anything, we need to keep our sights set on that goal long enough to accomplish it. If we have a long-term goal in mind, we can't afford to let our other goals and desires distract us from our main goal. We can have other goals we accomplish along the way, but we can't afford to let our other goals and desires pull us away from our ultimate goal and greatest desire. To reach the Celestial Kingdom, we need to keep our sights set on eternity and not let ourselves put too much focus on goals and desires that might pull us away from reaching our main goal.

Being Inexperienced

I don't play League of Legends, and I have no plans to ever change that, but I am subscribed to their Youtube channel because I like (some of) their animated advertisements. Recently, they posted an advertisement that wasn't animated, and I liked it so much that I thought I'd share part of it with you.

The ad is titled "Go Noobs | League of Legends New Player Advertisement." It's part of an ad campaign that seems to be designed to make it less daunting for prospective players to start playing such a competitive game. This particular ad is noteworthy because it shares thoughts that are applicable to far more than just starting to play a video game. In fact, this message can be applied to doing just about anything:

At some point, everyone is a beginner. . . . We're all trash the first time we try something, but remember: Being bad is the first step to not being bad. . . . And when you're, like, new at a thing, every moment is a discovery, every discovery is a win, and every win is the best thing ever.

Not quite the wording I would have chosen for a blog post, but they're trying to appeal to teens and young adults. Still, I like the concept and the encouragement. Everyone starts out inexperienced. In every game I've seen that has an Experience system, each new character starts off with zero Experience. The idea is to gain experience (and, thus, gain skill) over time. That's basically what we came to Earth to do. We came here to gain experience, develop our talents, and, to borrow another phrase from gamer lingo, "Get good."

Then the ad took the message one step further, encouraging its audience to look of the bright side of being inexperienced. "Stop and think about it: This moment right now. It's the very last time you'll ever be a beginner. . . . So enjoy being clumsy. Embrace being new." And I wish they had added this, so I will: It won't last. One can't be a beginner forever. Every moment you spend trying something new gives you experience and makes you less new at doing that thing, whether it's practising a talent, playing League of Legends, or just living life. The longer you keep at it, the more experience you'll gain, and the better you'll get at it.

So I would like to leave you with the same advice League of Legends would like to give me: "Embrace being new." Learn to tolerate being inexperienced. It won't be very fun. The advertisement admits that early on in the video. But it can be rewarding. Each moment gives us experience, so being inexperienced won't last long, so long as we're willing to keep trying and keep learning how to do better. We can keep doing new things until they're not new to us any more, but first, we have to be willing to embrace being new.

Patient Teaching

I just watched a cute video of a man teaching a puppy how to safely go down stairs. As I watched that video (and most other instances of teaching animals or children), I thought about how God teaches us. He is patient with us. He explains things to us. He had His Son demonstrate things for us. And while we still have a long way to go, He is encouraging about the progress we're making.

We all have a long way to go before we become anything like God. God is far more powerful and capable than us, just as a typical human is far more capable than a puppy who can't even go down stairs yet. But just as a puppy can learn how to traverse the stairs, we too can learn how to do the things that God can do, like exercise such great patience and wisdom as He teaches us how to become more like Him.

God is the Great Teacher, and I'm so grateful to have so many good teachers around to give me a glimpse of what God may be like. It's difficult to imagine what a perfect teacher or parent might be like, but having such good parents and teachers around to serve as examples makes it a little easier. It takes a lot of patience and humility to come down to a puppy's level to show the puppy, by example, how to crawl down stairs. If an imperfect human can manage to be that patient when teaching, I can only imagine how patient God must be when it comes to teaching us.

"Do What You Think Is Right"

At one point in the Disney film The Hunchback of Notre Dame, two main characters, both heroes, have a disagreement about what they should do. More specifically, one of them wants to do something and is trying to convince the other to help them. Upon failing at that, the first hero decides to proceed without the aid of the second, leaving the reluctant hero with some parting counsel: "Do what you think is right."

I think that this is good advice. So often, people do what they want to do of whatever they can get away with. Too few people take the time to consider what they should do. And when one does try to think of the right thing to do,they sometimes turn to the wrong sources to help them determine what the right course of action is. Sometimes, laws and religions can convince people to ignore their consciences and do what they're told is the right thing to do, no matter how strongly the Holy Spirit tries to persuade them against it. If people listened to their hearts and tried to do what's right, they'd do the right thing more frequently than they would be following their own desires or the counsel of others.

Still, the counsel of others shouldn't be completely discarded, and one's heart isn't infallible. Sometimes, what we think is the right thing to do actually isn't the right thing to do. That's why we should consider the counsel of others and check it against our own feelings. That way, the Holy Ghost will have an opportunity to testify of truths that we might otherwise have rejected. We should always follow our consciences, but there are times when our consciences are too vague or too easily swayed by our emotions, so we sometimes need good counsel to give us specific directions, though I still think we should only follow that direction if our hearts tell us we should.

Blindly following any given counsel is a bad idea, and blindly rejecting any given counsel can be even worse. Rather than waiting to be told what to do and then doing it (or doing the opposite or anything else), we should consider the counsel of others, check with the Spirit and our own feelings, and then "Do what [we] think is right."

Choose Your Own Goals

My brother and I had a conversation today in which we determined that life is an adventure game in which one chooses their own win conditions. In a normal adventure game, you're usually given an objective, like "collect (almost) all of the blue and/or red pages by travelling to various worlds and solving their puzzles." In life, the goal isn't so obvious. Sure, we all want happiness, but there seem to be multiple ways to get it, and not all ways work for everyone.

Of course, there is only one way to achieve ultimate eternal happiness, but even while we follow the "strait and narrow path," we have a good deal of leeway regarding how we spend mortality. We can pursue one degree or another, multiple degrees or no degree at all. We can choose our own career path (within the limits of our abilities). Our choice of hobbies is completely up to us, as long as we don't choose anything sinful. And while God may offer advice regarding whom we marry and how many kids we have, there are still many choices God leaves entirely up to us. To a large extent, God lets us pursue whatever goals we want that don't conflict with our eternal goal.

So, we each have some serious, yet largely inconsequential choices to make. In the eternal scheme of things, I don't think it'll matter much what our Earthly hobbies or careers were, except that they'll give us experience that we may or mat not be able to draw upon hereafter. If we want to be bankers or doctors or teachers or writers or whatever we want to be, that's our choice to make. We get to choose how we want to spend mortality, including how we earn and spend our money. Beside the one major goal of mortality, any other goals we have in life are left for us to define. So, pick any goals you want, confirm that it's not going to interfere with eternity, and then go for it. It's your life. You choose what to do with it.

Truth From Fiction

The last talk of the General Women's Session of General Conference focused on attitudes. In it, President Uchtdorf spoke of three sisters who lived under similar circumstances and had similar experiences but experienced different emotions about those experiences. Naturally, President Uchtdorf's message seemed to mostly be that we should try to have positive attitudes and that it's possible to have positive attitudes, even when things are going wrong, but that's not what I want to focus on. My message this evening is that even though these sisters and their story are fictional, we can still learn from them.

Wise people have been using fictional stories to teach important truths for thousands of years. Even Jesus Christ Himself might have done that. Of course, I would assume that Jesus' stories are true - After all, He wouldn't lie. - but it wouldn't actually matter if they weren't. Even if the good Samaritan and the sower and the prodigal son weren't real people, we can still learn from them. In the same way, we can learn from President Uchtdorf's probably-fictional three sisters.

The value of a message isn't affected by the validity of the stories that share that message. If it's wrong to lie, then it's wrong to lie, whether or not there's a blue fairy that made a puppet's nose grow. True morals and principles can be learned from even blatantly false fables and parables. So we shouldn't discard any counsel just because the stories that illustrate its wisdom might be fictional. The lessons we can learn from these stories can be true, even if the stories themselves aren't.

Come In To Play

In the early days of Magic: the Gathering, the term for what cards do when you put them on the table was "come into play." For example, when you cast a creature spell and put the creature card onto the table, the creature is said to have "come into play." Some time later, the playspace started to be called "the battlefield," and cards were said to "enter the battlefield" when you put them on the table. I didn't really care much about the terminology here until the Wizards of the Coast, the people who make Magic, started releasing a series of documentaries about the people who play Magic. Naming the series after the phrase used in the game, they called the series "Enter the Battlefield."

This was the point at which I started caring what the term for putting cards on the table was called. You see, "enter the battlefield" implies that a fight is taking place, or is about to. If one "enter[s] the battlefield," one intends to join the battle, which is fine if we're talking about trading cards, but not so fine if we're talking about people. When I play Magic, I consider it a game, not a battle. I don't "enter the battlefield." I come in to play.

I think some people take some things too seriously. Sure, it can be fun to imagine oneself as a powerful spell-caster, engaged in a "battle of wits" against a fierce rival, but that's not how I play Magic. I don't play to win; I play for fun. And I also hope that those I play against have fun as well. I don't want to scare people off with an intimidating invitation like "enter the battlefield." I want to hold the door open with a welcoming phrase like "come in to play."

Of course, I know I'm adding a space there, which completely changes the words and their meaning, but I don't care. I'm not taking this too seriously, and I hope those I play with don't take it too seriously, either. I hope they don't see this as a series of battles that they feel compelled to win. I hope they see it as I do, as a series of games that, win or lose, we find fun to play.

Strength From Each Other

There's another thing from which we can draw spiritual energy, and I'm not talking about the Sunday School answers, though those work, too. In addition to prayer, scriptures study, etcetera, and spending time in (or at least looking at) nature, we can also draw energy from a surprising source: Each other.

I just finished watching a Let's Play of a game called Journey. In Journey, the main mode of transportation is walking and sometimes sliding. There is a button you can hold down to fly, but the energy you use to fly depletes quickly. There are a handful of ways to replenish that energy, one of which is standing near other players. When two Journey players stand near each other, they both regain energy.

When I first saw it, this seemed like an odd mechanic. I'm used to living in the physical world where energy has to come from somewhere. Plants absorb energy from the sun, animals absorb energy from plants, and so on. For anything to gain energy in the physical world, it has to take that energy from somewhere else. It's a zero-sum game. It may even be a less-then-zero-sum game, if I remember my physics lessons correctly.

But we're not talking about physical energy. If we were, one Journey player could only gain energy from another by depleting the amount of energy the other player had. Instead, they both gain energy. I theorize that this is possible because they aren't using physical energy (which, in hindsight, should have been obvious, since they get it from glowing, floating postage stamps, store it in scarves, and use it to fly). I believe that the travellers in Journey actually use something more like spiritual or emotional energy, the kind we can get from each other.

There's a special feeling we get when we spend time with loved ones. It gives us feelings of peace and contentment, and, just like in Journey, it can give us the energy we need to face and overcome the trials that lie ahead. And, somehow, it goes both ways. When two people who like each other hug each other or hold each others' hands, both are strengthened by it. I'm not sure how this could possibly work, physically, but spiritually, I know it does. I have very recently felt the energy that comes from being close to a loved one, and I'm sure that they simultaneously felt a similar energy come from being close to me.

If you feel like you could use some spiritual energy, or if someone you love looks like they're running low, spending time with that loved one may be a good way to strengthen both of you. It doesn't work for everyone in every situation. There are times when people would rather be left alone. But sometimes, two people can gain spiritual strength from being near each other, and that can be a wonderful and amazing thing.

Mana From Lands

I follow the U.S. Department of the Interior on Facebook despite not having any clue what that department is or does. I don't work for the department of the interior, and I don't think I know anyone who does. I follow the U.S. Department of the Interior not because I have any connection to the department, but because of the photos they share. I follow them because they grace my Facebook feed with pictures of land.

In Magic: the Gathering, the energy that players use to cast spells comes from lands, and there are some real-world reasons why that makes sense. Most, if not all, of our food comes from the ground, directly or indirectly, and the very air we breath is kept breathable by ground-based plants. In a literal way, we could not live without the energy that comes from the ground.

I think that principle extends to our spirits as well. I'm not sure what it is about nature, but spending even just a few minutes out enjoying it can be deeply refreshing to the soul. When I take my lunch breaks at work, I always take them outside, not just so I don't get crumbs on the floor or because that's where the good drinking fountain is, but so I can get some fresh air and sunshine to break up the hours I typically spend inside.

The refreshing effects of nature seem to work, even through pictures. One of the best reasons to play Magic is for the lands. I greatly enjoy looking at the pictures on Magic's land cards, most of which are stunningly beautiful. It's part of the reason I play Magic, and it's all of the reason I follow the U.S. Department of the Interior.

I follow the U.S. Department of the Interior because the photos they share give me energy. They remind me of how wonderful and glorious this planet, and especially this continent, really is. I draw strength from seeing these images on my Facebook feed, just as I draw strength from seeing similar images on one of my favorite cards games and on my lunch breaks. Nature is so wonderful, even mere pictures of it can give us the energy we need to keep going.

On the Locations of Spirits

Philosophy is weird. I just read a (fortunately fictional) story about a man who had his brain removed. As the nerves connecting his brain to his body were removed, they were replaced with pairs of radio transmitters and receivers, so his body could still send signals to his brain, and vice versa. After the operation, the man looked at his brain, which was then suspended in a life-supporting vat of some translucent liquid. Physically, light was bouncing off of the man's brain into his eyes, which sent a signal through a line of nerves to a radio transmitter, which relayed the signal to the brain, which was the organ that was actually observing the image of itself. But that's not how it felt to the man. As far as the man was concerned, he was standing in front of the vat, looking down at his brain. His consciousness (or spirit, if you will) felt like it was still attached to his body, though I think it was actually still attached to his mind.

But thankfully, and more importantly, we don't actually have to figure out where his spirit or consciousness was, or where anyone's spirit is. Being composite beings with spirits, brains, and bodies can be confusing, but we don't need to understand that yet. For now, it will suffice that God understands how we exist and knows where our spirits are. There's a lot about philosophy that I don't understand, and probably won't understand for a long time. Thankfully, though, I don't need to understand it. God knows how this all works, so I can trust God to make sure everything works out the way it should, so every spirit goes where it's supposed to go, and maybe God can explain this to me when mine gets there.

Wisdom and Happiness

I have just had (and, in some ways, am still in the middle of) a conversation with my brother on the subject of wisdom. Our conversation has covered many sub-topics, including debating various definitions and exploring its relation to knowledge and intelligence. Ultimately, we've determined that there's a lot more to say about it, but in the interest of time, I want to share just one of the highlights from our conversation: Wisdom can lead to happiness.

When we make wise decisions, we can be content that we have acted well. The wisest decisions are the ones that lead us to (and make us more like) God, and following God always ultimately leads to a great deal of happiness. We should always (time permitting) try to consider our options and choose the best one, though that may not always be the easiest or the most immediately rewarding option. Acting wisely is difficult; it takes a good deal of discipline to be wise. But the results of exercising wisdom are worth the effort it takes to develop it, especially since the ultimate result of wisdom is ultimate happiness, a reward that one would be wise to seek.

A Day of Rest

Not long ago, I felt stressed about my assignments, which seemed to be stacking up. I had a lesson to give today, a midterm exam to take tomorrow, and a paper due two days after that. Yesterday, I felt badly worried about these things, so much so that I didn't want to go anywhere or do anything, and I felt irritated at people whom I felt were wasting my time.

But now, after I've had a mostly restful Sunday, I feel a lot better about everything. My lesson has been given, and it went well enough, so I don't need to worry about that any more. I've spent a good deal of time preparing for tomorrow's midterm, and I'll have some more time tomorrow to cram for it before I take it. As for the paper that's due on Wednesday, it's actually due at midnight Wednesday night, which means that I'll have some time on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday evening to work on it. Yes, I have other stuff going on on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, and I may or may not have enough material to write my paper until then, but I'm still confident that I'll have enough time to write the paper, especially since the paper's so short.

It's amazing how challenging some obstacles can appear at some times and how manageable they can seem at other times. From a distance, with each task seeming to take time away from completing the other tasks, my work seemed overwhelming to me, but now that I've gotten one task out of the way, and I've properly taken stock of my remaining time, I think I should be able to tackle my remaining tasks with relative ease (knock on wood).

I am thankful for the peace that this day of rest has given me. I have previously lamented how busy and laborious these sabbath days can be, with their many meetings and gatherings, and I don't even have it as bad as other people have it. Many people have many more meetings and much more work to do on Sundays than I do. Yet, I still sometimes feel overwhelmed, and taking a "day of rest" hasn't always felt helpful to me. I'm glad this week was different. I'm thankful that this Sunday was actually a day of rest for me, and I now feel largely refreshed and ready for the work I'll do over the next few days. I don't know what it is about this Sunday that made it so restful and refreshing, but I'm thankful for it. This Sunday truly was a day of rest for me, and I look forward to getting my next few tasks over with so I can rest from those labors and cares as well.

Questions the Articles Answer

If I'm going to ask my Primary kids questions that can be answered by the Articles of Faith, I should probably write a list of those questions, so here are a couple of questions that the Articles of Faith can answer:

Who are the three members of the Godhead?

Do we believe in Original Sin? (I won't ask the kids this one. It's a yes/no question, and the kids probably don't know what Original Sin is.)

How can we saved from our sins? (There are a couple of good, correct answers to this one.)

What are the first four principles and ordinances of the gospel? (Another list question, like the first question, and it's a fairly obvious reference to the Article of Faith, so I might skip this one, too.)

Who can perform ordinances? (This one might be a bit of a stretch to link it to the Article of Faith, but I think I can do it with a follow-up question, like "How does a person get the Priesthood?")

What spiritual gifts are available to us? (I might not ask this question, either, for the sake of brevity, if for no other reason.)

How is the church organized? (Another one I won't ask during the quiz portion, but I'll plan on bringing it up when I teach the kids that we tell people about the church using the Articles of Faith.)

What do we believe about the Bible? What do we believe about the Book of Mormon? (I should be careful about using the words "we believe" until I'm ready to tip my hand about the purpose of the quiz, but this is a fairly good question that can lead to an interesting discussion.)

Is there such a thing as modern revelation? (It's another yes/no question that'd probably be better brought up after the quiz.)

What will the Millennium be like? (It's a stretch, but if I recall correctly, at least some of my Primary kids had an interest in the Millennium, so the Tenth Article of Faith might be worth bringing up at some point.)

How important is religious freedom? (This question might go over my students' heads, but it might be a good idea to plant the seeds at an early age. I don't know what kind of world these kids will grow up in, but it seems like there's a chance that they'll have to fight for their (and others') rights to act according to their principles.)

What is our attitude toward the law? (This question would be best saved for later, if I use it at all.)

What sort of people are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints? (Shortly after I ask this question (and I will ask this question in the quiz, especially since there are lots of good answers to it), I'll want to reveal that we're talking about the Thirteen Articles of Faith, in case the kids haven't figured it out by then, so I might quote this Article of Faith after giving the kids a chance to list some answers.)

I think I like how this quiz is shaping up. I'll only ask about half of the questions, if that, but five or six questions are plenty for a warm up exercise. This is mostly just to get the kids' attention on the lesson and to get them involved in it before I get into the less-engaging part of reading (or having the kids read) the stories. Still, I'll have a second quiz that tests (and refreshes) the kids' knowledge of the Articles of Faith, so if we can get through the story part of the lesson quickly enough, we can go back to discussing the Articles of Faith, in random order. And I think the kids were promised a round or two of hangman after that, so I won't spend a whole lot of time on the boring parts.

I think I have some pretty good lesson preparation set up now. I'll put my list of questions together with my outline tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I should probably shut my computer off and get some rest.

Pencils, Pens, and Repentence

When I write, I usually write in pencil or on the computer, rather than in pen. I do this because I occasionally (frequently) make mistakes. With an eraser or a Backspace key, it's easy to correct mistakes made in pencil or in a word processor. Mistakes made in pen are not so easily fixed. Often, one has to cross out a word or sentence and try to squeeze a correction in among what has already been written. One can, supposedly, correct one's mistakes that way, but that doesn't take away the mark of a mistake or the additional marks made in correcting it.

There is a clear spiritual message here. Two, in fact. And I'm not sure which is more important.

The first is that the Atonement is wonderful. Through the infinite power of the Atonement, our sins can be washed away so completely that God will forget we ever committed them. In that way, repenting is like erasing something written in pencil or on the computer. Once the correction process is finished, the marks of our mistakes are completely gone.

Except that they're not. The second lesson is that, even after we've repented, the memories of our sins stay with us, even if they don't remain with God. God may only concern Himself with the final draft, but we still remember all the mistakes and corrections we've made in the revision process. This is probably important because it helps us remember our mistakes long enough to learn from them, so we can learn to do better in the future. We can't help making mistakes, so long as we're human, but if we remember how and why we made such mistakes, we can gradually learn to make them less frequently until we reach the point where we don't make them at all.

At times, I'm glad I remember the mistakes I've made (and how to avoid them), and sometimes I'm happier when I can forget that the mistakes ever happened. I'm not sure which is better, in the long run. Learning from one's past mistakes is important, but it's also important to eventually let them go. I'm not ultimately sure, then, whether it's better to write in pen or in pencil. It may depend on the job. It also may depend on how many mistakes one makes and how much one still needs to learn. Both pens and pencils have their pros and cons. I'm thankful that God can help us remember what we need to remember and forget what we can afford to forget.

What Would You Put on the Ark?

My laptop is having trouble. Actually, it has been having trouble since I got it from my brother a few years ago. You see, up until that point, my brother was letting me borrow the laptop so I could use it for school, but I left it on a table that also had a vase of flowers on it, and evidently, one of our cats got too close. The vase fell over, spilling water on the laptop, which was shut off, but plugged in. As soon as I realized what had happened, I did what I could to hopefully save the laptop, and then made my brother a deal: I would pay him for the laptop in a way of making reparations, and he would let me keep the laptop if it survived the water damage I had unwittingly subjected it to. Luckily for me, the laptop did survive, and I jokingly named it Noah, because it survived "the flood."

Now, my laptop's fan is wearing out. It has had trouble with overheating in the Summer, and I've taken to keeping it on a cooling rack to help it radiate the heat its processors make. So far, it's been working - so long as I don't mind the white noise of the whirring of the fan. But I know that laptops don't last forever. And, now that I'm blogging about this, I realise that my laptop has been sharing a table with another vase of flowers since my dad's funeral. Noting my computer's fan trouble, Mom recommended that I find out if I have any files on this computer that I would like to save, in case my laptop dies sometime soon.

I saved four folders. Two of them have to do with Magic: the Gathering and D&D, admittedly. They include character sheets, rulebooks, and collections of images that would be difficult to replace. I also saved a General Conference folder, which contains my notes from the last few General Conferences, and a folder labelled "Blog," which contains blog posts I wrote when I didn't have access to the internet and images that I either used or thought of using on my blog. I shared one of those blog posts with my family tonight because I felt that it was good enough to be worth sharing, and I certainly think it's good enough to be worth keeping.

Hearing about the natural disasters that have been happening everywhere, including wildfires in my state, has given me cause to think "If I were to lose everything except what I could put in a suitcase or backpack, what would I put in that suitcase or backpack?" I made a similar (though far less wrenching) decision when I looked through my files, thinking "Given the limited space on my storage drive, what files would I most like to keep?" I found some files that were worth keeping and some files that weren't, so I stored some files in a folder named "ARK" on my flash drive, and I moved others into a folder named "Trash" on my computer.

As we examine our lives, as we occasionally should, we will find some things that are worth keeping forever, and some things that aren't worth keeping at all. Some things should be abandoned, and some things should be preserved. So the question for all of us becomes, "If you were going to change over time and gradually lose everything you don't make a conscious effort to keep, what would you choose to keep?" What would you put in a suitcase or a flash drive? If you knew a spiritual flood was coming, and you had to choose only the best parts of you to keep, what would you put on the ark?

These are, naturally, very difficult questions to answer. To even begin to answer them, we need to establish our highest priorities, which is difficult enough. And the fear of losing the parts of ourselves that we may or may not want to keep can be paralysing. For example, I know I'm not going to take my Magic or D&D stuff into heaven with me. Does that mean that I should give them up now? Even if I should, I'm not sure I'm willing to do that.

Thankfully, we all have some time on Earth to enjoy the things that won't last forever, but we should put some thought into deciding what we'll try to keep with us when our time on Earth is over. We'll want to keep our family relationships (at least some of them) and our testimonies and spiritual knowledge. We'll want to keep at least a few precious memories and experiences from our mortal lives. We'll want to keep much of what we've learned about almost everything we've learned about.

But what else? What other priorities should we have? What else should we try to hold on to forever? I hate to be a doomsayer, but the world isn't becoming any more stable any time soon. The floods are, eventually, going to come up. When that happens, what all are we going to try to carry with us onto that Ark?

Thirteen Basic Statements

I'm teaching a lesson in Primary again next Sunday, and I, thankfully, have a fairly simple lesson to give. The lesson is about the thirteen Articles of Faith, and normally I would want to make sure that I cover the historical aspect of the lesson so the children could learn about the sequence of events in church history, but this time, there is almost no history to cover. A man was writing a history about New Hampshire and wanted to mention the Mormons who lived there. He didn't know a whole lot about the church, so he asked a Mormon friend of his about the church, that friend then asked Joseph Smith a question that amounted to "What should I tell my friend to tell the world about Mormons?" and Joseph Smith responded with the story of the First Vision, an account of church history up to that point, and the thirteen Articles of Faith. The story has virtually no impact on later events in church history, so I barely need to teach it.

What I do need to teach the children is a lesson about the Articles of Faith themselves. I might start off by asking my Primary kids questions that are answered in the Articles of Faith, such as "Who are the members of the Godhead?" and "What are the first principles and ordinances of the Gospel?" Then, I'll explain that the answers to these questions, which may or may not come easily to us, are completely unknown to many people who don't know about our church. I'll then explain that the Articles of Faith were written to explain our basic beliefs to those who don't know about us. I might share a story about a girl who told a man about the church using the Articles of Faith. Toward the end of the lesson, I might have the children play a game that tests their knowledge of the Articles of Faith. The lesson manual gives several options for such a game. I'll pick one and possibly adapt it.

By the end of the lesson, I'll want my students to know and understand the thirteen Articles of Faith, or at least understand why it's important to know and understand them. These statements, though fairly plain and simple to us, form a basic foundation of our faith and highlight several of the key differences between our church and many others. If we or someone we know wants to know the basics about our church, , the Articles of Faith are a good place to start.

Beloved

This morning, I rewatched Elder Russell M. Nelson's General Conference talk. In it, Elder Nelson mentioned God and "His Beloved Son." When I heard those words, I thought about how that description applies to literally half the people who ever lived, and the other half are only excluded from this description because they aren't "sons." God loves all His children, not just Jesus, and Jesus loves all His disciples, not just John. We are all "beloved."

I think that's something that's important to remember. We've always been taught that Heavenly Father loves us, but we regularly forget that, despite our many flaws, God loves us just as much as He loves anyone - Infinitely.

Of course, His loves sometimes manifests itself in His withholding of blessings from those who are unworthy. This doesn't mean that God loves them any less. On the contrary, it shows that He loves us enough to do whatever it takes to convince us to choose the path that leads to happiness. Thus, even when He has to punish us for wrongdoing, that punishment is actually a manifestation of His love.

God love all of us, no matter who we are of what we've done. His love, as mentioned previously, is infinite and eternal. And, notably, it extends to literally everyone.

Patching a Slow Leak

For a long time now, my bike's front tire has had a slow leak. For most of that time, I just tolerated it. It wasn't too awfully annoying to have to pump my tire full of air each morning. In fact, thinking back on that, I could have blogged about it, with the message being something about having to stop to repent or regain our spiritual strength periodically in order to proceed in our mortal journeys. However, given the cause of the leak and how easy it was to fix the leak (hopefully) permanently, that may be a bad analogy.

The leak had been caused by a small thorn - a tiny thing no longer than half the width of a pinkie fingernail. I had seen it in my tire some days ago, but I knew better than to pull it out right there on the road, and since then, I had always felt too tired or busy to deal with it. I knew the thorn was there, but it didn't annoy me enough to prompt me to do anything about it.

The longer I ignored the thorn, the more annoying it became. Soon, it wasn't enough to just pump up the tire every morning; I had to pump it up again each afternoon as well. Riding home from school, the "slow" leak was so bad that I had to pump it up again halfway home. (Thank goodness for portable bike pumps!)

When I got home, I decided that I couldn't ignore my tire's slow leak any longer. I removed the thorn, patched the tire, and filled the tire with air again. That was a few hours ago, and the tire is still holding air. The slow leak has been fixed. With any luck, I won't have to reinflate the tire again tomorrow morning, or for quite some time after that. After weeks of just living with the problem, I finally got around to solving it, and it really only took about an hour, if that, to truly solve it.

I think the analogy here is that we shouldn't let small problems fester. Problems tend to grow with time, and even if they don't, we really don't want to have to spend time periodically dealing with the symptoms of the problem without addressing the problem itself. If we know our tires have slow leaks, we should patch them up rather than continually reinflating them. Yes, dealing with the problem itself takes more time and effort, and sometimes we don't have the time or energy to solve a problem at a particular time, and the wisest (or only) course of action at that time is to deal with the problem as well as we can and make a mental note to solve the problem later. But the thing is that we are probably going to have to solve the problem sooner or later, and the sooner we get around to solving the problem, the sooner the problem will be solved.

We shouldn't procrastinate repentance the way I procrastinated fixing my bike's tire's slow leak. I know that we only have so much spiritual energy and that we have SO many sins to repent of, but we shouldn't let our inability to repent of all our sins prevent us from even trying to repent of any of them. We can work on one sin, for starters, and when we've completely overcome that one (or whenever we feel ready, whichever comes first) we can move on to the next one. We owe it to ourselves to try to make some progress on this eternal, perfecting project. Every day we choose to live with having spiritual problem is another day that we go without the spiritual blessings we'll get for solving it. We spend so much time and energy dealing with problems that we wouldn't have, or wouldn't be as bad, if we repented. We eventually get to the point where repenting is less difficult and less time-consuming than dealing with the continual consequences of not repenting.

Sure, we could keep pumping air into our tires again and again every day, but it might be wiser to take the time out of one day in order to patch the slow leak for good.

Worth and Worthiness

In her talk, Value Beyond Measure, Sister Joy D. Jones taught that there is a critical difference between the words worth and worthiness. She reminded us that our spiritual worth is based on our Heavenly Father's love for us. Thus, our worth, in His eyes, is infinite, and nothing can change that. Our worthiness, however, is based on our behavior, and is much easier to change. Sister Jones offered us this encouraging, yet sobering reminder: "If we sin, we are less worthy, but we are never worth less!"

Sin does not decrease our spiritual worth, but it does decrease our worthiness. This loss in worthiness often results in a loss of blessings, and some people, including the adversary, would have us take that as evidence that God loves sinners less than He loves the righteous. However, Sister Jones testified that God loves all His children, regardless of their behavior or worthiness: "No matter what, we always have worth in the eyes of our Heavenly Father."

Yet, that doesn't give us a free pass to commit sin, trusting that God's love alone will redeem us from it. We must choose which path we follow and which destination we reach. To gain the greatest blessings God offers us, we must strive for a worthiness that matches our spiritual worth. Like any good parent, God rewards His children for goo behavior, and He trusts with responsibility only those who have proven worthy of that trust.

God will always love us, but He will not always bless us. God's love does not have to be earned, but His blessings do. Nothing we ever say or do will ever affect the amount of love God has for us, but it may affect the amount of blessings we receive from Him.

But being unworthy and less-blessed does not mean that God loves us any less. His love is infinite and unchangeable, as is our spiritual worth. God will never stop loving us or stop wanting to bless us, so He will never stop urging us to repent and prove worthy of the blessings He wants to give us. We must try to be worthy so God can give us blessings equal to the worth He sees in us.

Reprove in Private

Another lesson we can learn from Sister Marriott's experience that it's wiser to reprove in private than in public. Human beings are proud creatures, and we don't take well to being humiliated. When correction is needed, it's best to offer that correction in a way that allows the person being corrected to "save face." Otherwise, the individual's pride may prevent them from accepting the correction that is needed.

I hate to give so much advice that sounds like we're skirting around the issues or softening our stance. We must not do that, and thankfully we don't have to. We can be firm, yet gentle. We can be tactful without backing down. We're not toning down our message; we're striving to be mindful of when and how we say it. We're not changing our message; we're trying to convey it in a way that'll make it easier to receive. Kindness and thoughtfulness are virtues that this world could use a lot more of. Let's try to exercise those virtues, even when offering reproof.

Rogerian Politics

I hate to keep blogging about politics, but it keeps coming up. In Sister Neill F. Marriott's talk, she mentioned an experience that gives us a helpful example of how NOT to express a political disagreement:

One memorable night a relative and I disagreed about a political issue. She briskly and thoroughly took my comments apart, proving me wrong within earshot of family members.

This is not the best way to win an argument. Attacking one's argument on a rhetorical level tends to engender defensiveness, especially when one is within earshot of others, and when one gets defensive, they are rarely willing to listen, no matter how good our arguments are.

Fortunately, there is a better way to present an argument. Earlier today, I had the opportunity to learn and teach about the Rogerian style of argumentation. Named after psychotherapist Carl Rogers, the Rogerian argumentation style begins with understanding and seeks to establish common ground.

The first step is to ensure that you understand the other side's point of view. This can be done by asking questions, listening, and then repeating what they said in your own words. It is helpful to acknowledge the valid points of their argument.

Once you're sure you understand the other's point of view, you can present your own point of view and seek to find common ground between them. Often, two people have similar principles, but different priorities or interpretations of those principles. If you can show that you share at least some of the same moral principles the other person values, they'll be more likely to be willing to listen to your point of view.

As you present your position, seek to find common ground. This is sometimes called a compromise, but that word has a negative connotation for some reason, so let's call it a Win/Win solution, rather than a Win/Lose solution. Too many people try to win political debates at the expense of their political opponents, but I don't like the term "political opponents" either. I don't believe that people have to be enemies. We can often find mutually-acceptable solutions to our political disagreements, as long as both sides are willing to negotiate.

Engaging in Rogerian argumentation in politics is fairly difficult. It's far easier (and more fun) to attack the other side and their arguments in an attempt to make your opponents look stupid, which is why so many people do it. But you can't win arguments that way. Traditional political arguments (complete with strawman arguments and ad hominem attacks) seldom convince one's political opponents to soften their position. In fact, the opposite is far more likely. If we are to have any hope of helping others understand, and perhaps accept, our point of view, we have to reject the traditional form of political argumentation and take a gentler approach instead.

The Rogerian approach to argumentation isn't common in our political climate, but I believe it should be. If we engage more in Rogerian politics than traditional arguments, we will be more likely to bring people together and find Win/Win solutions, and less likely to drive friends, family, and the nation apart.

Politics in Moderation

Not to be confused with Moderation in Politics. That's a topic for another day.

While I was blogging about sharing our light and articulating our faith, I forgot to mention one caveat: It's exhausting. Political conversations, especially heated and/or complex ones, can be spiritually draining. I'm sure that there are some people who thrive on argumentation and conflicts of opinion, but I'm not one of them. I am open to hearing and pondering other people's opinions, but after a lengthy discussion, I find that I need time to cool down and process my thoughts before I'm ready to rejoin the conversation. If this sounds familiar to you, don't worry about it. We don't need to feel like we're shirking our spiritual and civic responsibilities if we find that we need to take a rest. There is wisdom in stepping back every so often to get a fresh perspective and a moment of peace. It is important to discuss political opinions and policies, but it's also important to know when to stop.

"Articulate Your Faith"

This may only be because I'm becoming increasingly interested in politics, but I noticed that a handful of the speakers at this General Conference at least touched on what I would consider political topics. I was surprised, however, to see that this trend started with the very first talk of this General Conference.

In her talk, Turn On Your Light, Sister Sharon Eubank counselled her fellow sisters to "Articulate [their] faith." The way she defined it, "Being articulate means to clearly express how you feel about something and why." To highlight this, she shared an experience she had on Facebook earlier this year. She saw a post that criticised Christianity. Not knowing how to respond, she scrolled past it, only to see later that someone else posted the response she wished she had made. She then encouraged us (or at least the sisters among us) to learn how to articulate our faith, testimonies, and experiences, so we will be able to share our light with those who challenge it. She said that we should follow the counsel of the apostle Peter to "be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you."

As I've said previously on this blog, I think that it's spiritually important, for everyone's sakes, for us to get involved in political discussions. They can be uncomfortable and unpleasant. We may lose a few friends. But I feel that it's important for people to speak their minds (preferably respectfully). In a world that is continuing to darken and that needs the light of Christ more than ever before, we need to be willing to turn of the lights we carry so we can shed light on the darkness in the world and illuminate a better path.

Unfortunately, this means talking to people. And, if that's not already bad enough, it means talking to them about two things that are considered somewhat taboo: religion and politics. Some would prefer to keep them separate. Some would prefer not to discuss religion at all. But when our public policies are founded on moral principles, and when many of our moral principles come from God, God must get involved in our political conversations. And we need to have and get involved in these conversations more frequently if our political situation is to get any better.

As painful and awkward as it may be, we need to learn how to articulate our faith and express it, even in the political arena. People need our light and our testimonies. We need to learn how to share them.

Carry Your Lights

Yesterday, I had planned to go to an evening institute class, but there was just one problem: I had forgotten to bring my bicycle lights. On a normal day, I don't need my bike lights. On a normal day, I leave school and arrive at home well before sunset - no lights required. However, on days when I plan to stay out extra late, I need to remember to bring my bike lights with me, so I can be safe when riding after dark. And as the days grow shorter, it's becoming more and more likely that I'll be biking after dark, so it's becoming more and more important that I carry my bike lights.

The world is darkening, and not just because winter is coming to the Northern Hemisphere. The world is darkening spiritually. If we want to continue to travel through it safely, we need to continually carry our spiritual lights. We can't leave our lights at home anymore and still expect everything to be fine. We will encounter spiritual darkness more and more frequently as the world drifts farther and farther away from God, and we need to be ready to fend off that darkness with our own spiritual lights.

Carrying  our spiritual lights with us can be a chore, and it might even annoy or offend some people, but it is necessary for our own sakes and for the sakes of anyone who is willing to follow our examples. God wants us to be "a light on the hill," but we will need to have our lights with us constantly in order to do that. We need our lights in order to get ourselves safely through the darkness, let alone guide others through the darkness back toward the light. Yesterday, I didn't have my lights with me because I forgot I'd need them. In this increasingly darkening world, we can no longer afford to forget to carry our lights.

Good Rags

Earlier today, I was looking for a good rag to use for a messy job, and something in the back of my mind wondered whether that was an oxymoron. If a piece of cloth was tattered enough to be considered a "rag," how could it still be considered "good"? I reasoned that a rag could be good if it was good enough for the job that needed doing. The job I was doing was a messy one, too messy for an untattered cloth, so I figured that a slightly tattered rag would be good enough. In fact, when I found a wash cloth with a small hole in it, I actually said "Perfect," because I felt that that rag would be perfect for the job.

No person, save Jesus, has ever been perfect. We all have imperfections, tatters and holes, that make us more like rags than like undamaged pieces of cloth. Yet, despite our imperfections, God sees a lot of good in us, and He often puts us to good use. In fact, if we let Him direct us, He can place us into positions where we are actually practically perfect for the jobs He wants us to do. We each have our personal strengths and weaknesses, our features and our flaws, and because God knows them all perfectly, He can select tasks for us that account for, and possibly even make good use of, the weaknesses we have.

Though we are imperfect, we are perfect for the work God wants us to do. Though our faults and weaknesses may make us somewhat like rags, God sees the good in us and the good that we can do. It's not an oxymoron to say that someone is a "good person," even though no person, except Jesus, has ever been perfectly good. Similarly, when we acknowledge our limitations, we may admit that we are much like rags, but when we follow God's plan for us, we discover that He sees us as good ones.

Little Addition

My favorite Magic deck that I'm using right now is my Gideon, Martial Paragon deck, which uses a lot of small creatures that get surprisingly big and powerful. They accomplish this by giving themselves and each other small bonuses that add up to unusually high numbers. In fact, I myself am often surprised by the total amount of power my creatures have after I play a few Honored Crop-Captains or a Trial of Solidarity. Often, just three or four creatures have enough combined power to win the game, all by starting with 2- or 3-power creatures and adding power to each of them 1 or 2 at a time.

Similarly, minor effects in life can add up to having a great effect on us. An individual instance of scripture study or personal prayer may not add much spiritual power on its own, but when it compounds with other, regular instances of prayer, scripture study, and other forms of daily personal worship, these small bonuses can add up to a surprising amount of spiritual power.

Conversely, minor negative effects can add up, too. Individual moments of harboring negative feelings or thoughts may not weaken us much on their own, but over time, weak, negative influences can wear away the strength we gain from weak, positive experiences. If we wish to gain more spiritual power, we should minimize the weakening influences in our lives and maximize the positive ones.

On the day-to-day level, this may not seem to matter too much. After all, all these influences are rather weak, individually. But the good and bad moments in our lives add up surprisingly quickly, and our small, daily habits can end up having a tremendous impact on us. So we should seek out opportunities to take hold on minor spiritual bonuses whenever we can must up the energy to, and we should avoid negative influences whenever we can, even if they're minor. Small numbers can add up quickly, and the weak influences we experience regularly can add up to having a great deal of power.

Would You Rather...?

This evening, my family played a silly game called "Would You Rather...?" This game consists mostly (or entirely, depending on how you play it) on asking questions that begin with "Would you rather" and then present the players with two choices. Sometimes, both of the options are good, and sometimes neither of them are, but there are no wrong answers; each player makes their decision (then possibly does some game-related thing, like moving a marker on a board) and then everyone moves on to the next question.

Life works kind of like that. Every so often, we are asked to choose what we would rather do. There are always more than two options, and sometimes there are right and wrong answers, but we are almost constantly being forced to make choices. There are times when we can choose between two or more good options, and we can take our pick, and sometimes, we are forced to choose between two unpleasant options, and we have to pick our poison, but we almost always (if not always) have choices.

As difficult as it can be to make tough decisions, I'm glad that God leaves those decisions up to us. Yes, there are choices He asks us to make and choices He asks us not to make, but there are also many choices He lets us make with no input or judgement from Him. God has given us commandments, but He has also given us a good deal of freedom that we can explore while keeping the commandments. I am grateful when God gives me clear directions, but I'm also grateful when God asks "Would you rather..." and then lets me choose my own path.