Today was my last day of building cleaning until next July, assuming I still have the calling then. Over the course of the last five months, I have received help from countless Ward members, and the only thing I can really do to repay them is to respond to service opportunities as often as I can. Maybe that's the point.
In this church, as in many other churches, people serve each other. We give service with little thought of reward, knowing that, when we need help, others will be willing to return the favor. I will serve others just as others have served me, and the people I serve will go on to do service as well, repeating the cycle indefinitely.
So, maybe I shouldn't feel bad about asking for help or allowing others to do service for me. That's part of how the church system works. Service is part of membership, both giving when asked and receiving when needed. Many people have helped me over the past several months. I plan to help many people as well.
Saturday, November 30, 2019
Friday, November 29, 2019
The Ward Family
Yesterday, I heard of someone doing something nice for someone else, making them feel welcomed and loved. Since I knew that this is one of the primary functions of the Ward, I commented proudly that that's what the church is for. Then I was informed that, while the receivers of the service were members of the church, the givers of the service were not. Rather, they were distant relatives of the receivers of the service. So, to amend my statement, I'd say that that's what family is for, but the way I see it, the two are fairly similar in function.
Both Wards and families are supposed to love and support it other. Ward and family members teach one another what is true and good and how to behave. Ward members and family members do service for each other out of the goodness of their hearts and for the sake of their Wards and families, respectively. And though those are the only examples that come immediately to my mind, there are almost certainly other connections that could also be made.
The ideal Ward and the ideal family make excellent role models for each other. I would expect a good Ward to behave much the same way as a good family would behave, and vice versa. So, while I was a bit surprised to hear that the givers of welcoming service weren't members of the church, I wasn't at all surprised to hear that they were members of the family because a good family is just as loving and welcoming as a good Ward would be. Both are, or should be, plenty loving and supporting, so it shouldn't be surprising to me that they act in similarly good ways.
Both Wards and families are supposed to love and support it other. Ward and family members teach one another what is true and good and how to behave. Ward members and family members do service for each other out of the goodness of their hearts and for the sake of their Wards and families, respectively. And though those are the only examples that come immediately to my mind, there are almost certainly other connections that could also be made.
The ideal Ward and the ideal family make excellent role models for each other. I would expect a good Ward to behave much the same way as a good family would behave, and vice versa. So, while I was a bit surprised to hear that the givers of welcoming service weren't members of the church, I wasn't at all surprised to hear that they were members of the family because a good family is just as loving and welcoming as a good Ward would be. Both are, or should be, plenty loving and supporting, so it shouldn't be surprising to me that they act in similarly good ways.
Thursday, November 28, 2019
Blogging From My Phone And Why Only God Can Judge Me
Our internet connection is back, but I think I'm going to continue to blog from my phone from time to time, not only because it maintains the excuse to write short blog posts, but also because it allows me to blog wherever I am and whenever I want. Whenever I have a blogworthy thought, I can blog about it. I don't have to wait until I get home tonight my computer (by which time, I will probably have forgotten the blogworthy thought). I can blog about whatever I feel like blogging about while it's still fresh in my mind.
Case in point: My brother just told me that I'm probably as good a person as I think everyone else is. For context, I know a lot of good people who don't think they're all that good. My mom is constantly doing good things for the benefit of others, yet she usually disagrees with me when I tell her how good I think she is. And just a few days ago, my brother had us pull over to help someone who seemed to have crashed. It turned out that they didn't need our help, but we would never have known that if my brother hasn't said that we should pull over and check. My brother is a good person, and as we made our way back to the car, I told him that.
He returned the compliment this morning when I got out of bed at around 6:30 to take out the trash, despite the rain. It was a good act, technically, but I only had to take out the trash this morning because I had forgotten to take it out yesterday. The facts that it was early and that it was raining lightly were irrelevant. Besides, my brother probably doesn't know a few other things about me that make me not such a good person. Though I suppose I don't know everything there is to know about him, either.
Our judgments of ourselves and others stem from what little we know about ourselves and others. All we know about what we know about others is based on what we see of them I'd based on what we see of them. If we see then do good, we might conclude that they are good people, partly because we don't see whatever evil they may hide. We know ourselves a little better, since we know both the good and the bad that we do, yet we may not know all the context. For example, if we make bad decisions in the face of difficult circumstances and strong temptations, that's fairly understandable. We're only human. But if our bad decisions come as a result of only mildly taxing circumstances and weak temptations, then we certainly have room for improvement. The trouble is that we can be rather poor judges of how challenging our temptations and circumstances are.
Only God knows exactly how good people are and how difficult their challenges are, so He is the only being who can properly judge anyone. We might judge others as being good and ourselves as being not as good, but we are missing several pieces of important context. We can't judge people properly because we don't know them or their circumstances perfectly. Only God does. So, while we may justly point out the good and bad things that people do, perhaps we shouldn't be so quick to judge anyone as being good or bad people, because (if for no other reason) we don't perfectly understand the context of the circumstances under which those people do those good or bad things.
Taking out the trash doesn't make me a good person, and having bad habits doesn't necessarily make me a bad person. Only God can judge what sort of people people are.
Case in point: My brother just told me that I'm probably as good a person as I think everyone else is. For context, I know a lot of good people who don't think they're all that good. My mom is constantly doing good things for the benefit of others, yet she usually disagrees with me when I tell her how good I think she is. And just a few days ago, my brother had us pull over to help someone who seemed to have crashed. It turned out that they didn't need our help, but we would never have known that if my brother hasn't said that we should pull over and check. My brother is a good person, and as we made our way back to the car, I told him that.
He returned the compliment this morning when I got out of bed at around 6:30 to take out the trash, despite the rain. It was a good act, technically, but I only had to take out the trash this morning because I had forgotten to take it out yesterday. The facts that it was early and that it was raining lightly were irrelevant. Besides, my brother probably doesn't know a few other things about me that make me not such a good person. Though I suppose I don't know everything there is to know about him, either.
Our judgments of ourselves and others stem from what little we know about ourselves and others. All we know about what we know about others is based on what we see of them I'd based on what we see of them. If we see then do good, we might conclude that they are good people, partly because we don't see whatever evil they may hide. We know ourselves a little better, since we know both the good and the bad that we do, yet we may not know all the context. For example, if we make bad decisions in the face of difficult circumstances and strong temptations, that's fairly understandable. We're only human. But if our bad decisions come as a result of only mildly taxing circumstances and weak temptations, then we certainly have room for improvement. The trouble is that we can be rather poor judges of how challenging our temptations and circumstances are.
Only God knows exactly how good people are and how difficult their challenges are, so He is the only being who can properly judge anyone. We might judge others as being good and ourselves as being not as good, but we are missing several pieces of important context. We can't judge people properly because we don't know them or their circumstances perfectly. Only God does. So, while we may justly point out the good and bad things that people do, perhaps we shouldn't be so quick to judge anyone as being good or bad people, because (if for no other reason) we don't perfectly understand the context of the circumstances under which those people do those good or bad things.
Taking out the trash doesn't make me a good person, and having bad habits doesn't necessarily make me a bad person. Only God can judge what sort of people people are.
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
A Blessing in Disguise
Our internet connection is still out, but no matter. As trials go, this is just a minor inconvenience, and, like most trials, this is probably a blessing in disguise. Without the internet, I spent less time on YouTube and more time resting, which is probably good for me. Holidays are supposed to be somewhat restful, so this reminded to rest is almost certainly a good thing. And the excuse to write shorter blog posts doesn't hurt, either.
I'm looking forward to getting the internet back, but in the meantime, as odd as it might sound, I'm kind of enjoying not having it.
I'm looking forward to getting the internet back, but in the meantime, as odd as it might sound, I'm kind of enjoying not having it.
A Nearly Forgotten Blessing
My household is experiencing some technical difficulties tonight, so I thought I wouldn't be able to blog tonight, but then I remembered that I can blog from my phone. What a blessing! We have many blessings. In fact, we have so many blessings, we may take some of them for granted, and even forget about them. Let us try to remember our blessings and make good use of them. God gave us these blessings for a reason. He wants us to remember them, thank Him for them, and put them to good use.
Monday, November 25, 2019
Pray Before Need
Interesting.
I just said a prayer, asking for help in deciding what to blog about (a prayer that God, apparently, answered), and it occurred to me that, while I'm fairly good at praying when I need help, I usually wait until I realize I need help before I pray.
For example, when I vacuumed up a Sacrament cup into a vacuum that wasn't big enough to handle it, I'm pretty sure I tried one or two things before I prayed for guidance to help me out of that predicament, and I certainly didn't pray for help before I began vacuuming because I didn't think I'd need it.
I wonder if that's one of the reasons God lets us get ourselves into trouble so often: to remind us how much we need Him. Of course, if I was wiser, I might remember to pray for guidance and assistance before things go wrong. If I did, things might not go wrong as often. For instance, if my morning prayers included asking God to help me recognize blogworthy moments, and if I prayed periodically, asking God to help me see the messages in the daily events unfolding around me, perhaps I would less frequently end up in the situation where I have only an hour until midnight, and I still don't know what to blog about.
I already knew that I need to pray often, far more often than I do, and I already knew that I need to pray, even when I don't feel worthy to pray, but now I also know that I always need to pray, even when I don't think I need to. I know I can pray in times of trouble, and I sometimes remember to, but now I know that it's far better to pray before I get myself into trouble, and that, if I did, I might get myself into trouble less often.
It makes sense to pray for the help that I very well might need, and it makes all the more sense to pray for that help before the hour in which I need it.
I just said a prayer, asking for help in deciding what to blog about (a prayer that God, apparently, answered), and it occurred to me that, while I'm fairly good at praying when I need help, I usually wait until I realize I need help before I pray.
For example, when I vacuumed up a Sacrament cup into a vacuum that wasn't big enough to handle it, I'm pretty sure I tried one or two things before I prayed for guidance to help me out of that predicament, and I certainly didn't pray for help before I began vacuuming because I didn't think I'd need it.
I wonder if that's one of the reasons God lets us get ourselves into trouble so often: to remind us how much we need Him. Of course, if I was wiser, I might remember to pray for guidance and assistance before things go wrong. If I did, things might not go wrong as often. For instance, if my morning prayers included asking God to help me recognize blogworthy moments, and if I prayed periodically, asking God to help me see the messages in the daily events unfolding around me, perhaps I would less frequently end up in the situation where I have only an hour until midnight, and I still don't know what to blog about.
I already knew that I need to pray often, far more often than I do, and I already knew that I need to pray, even when I don't feel worthy to pray, but now I also know that I always need to pray, even when I don't think I need to. I know I can pray in times of trouble, and I sometimes remember to, but now I know that it's far better to pray before I get myself into trouble, and that, if I did, I might get myself into trouble less often.
It makes sense to pray for the help that I very well might need, and it makes all the more sense to pray for that help before the hour in which I need it.
Sunday, November 24, 2019
Faith Shown by Works
This afternoon, I had the privilege of joining a Primary class during the second hour of church. The lesson this week focused on the relationship between faith and works. Essentially, if we have sufficient faith, our faith will move us to action, and that action will be the evidence of our faith. James 2:18 reads "Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works."
When we truly believe something, we act on that belief. My faith in the wiring of my house leads me to pull the cord of a ceiling light every morning, fully expecting the light to turn on. My faith in my employers leads me to work for them, fully expecting them to pay me for my time. And my faith in God leads me to strive to keep His commandments, because I fully expect that I will be blessed for my efforts to be righteous. If I didn't have faith in God and His promises, then I probably wouldn't bother trying to keep His commandments.
About a week or two ago, I participated in a Peak Adventures climbing course. Secured by a harness and a set of climbing ropes, I climbed up at least 20-30ft and walked across a log from one tree to another. Without that climbing gear, that activity would have been very dangerous and incredibly foolish. I could have fallen to my death from such a height, and as the saying goes, there's nothing easier than falling off a log. I was (mostly) comfortable with risking my life in that activity because I knew that I wasn't really risking my life. Had I fallen, that rope system would have stopped me from falling to my death. I was only willing to act because I had faith.
I wonder if my faith in God is as strong as my faith in a harness and a set of climbing ropes. Do I have enough faith to take whatever risks He asks me to take, fully expecting everything to work out alright? Do I have enough faith to follow whatever path He asks me to follow, fully expecting it to lead me to a good destination? I suppose, when the time comes, my actions will show whether I have such faith or not.
I hope I have such faith, and I want to develop such faith, just to make sure I have it, because, on some level, I believe that God knows what's best and that His plans always work out. I hope that I'll be wise enough to follow Him, even when the decisions get dicey, but that's going to take a lot of courage, or rather, it's going to take a lot of faith. I hope that, when the stakes are high, I will still have enough faith to show my faith by my works. I hope I have the courage to put my money where my mouth is, or rather, to put my behavior where my beliefs are. It's easy to say that I have faith in God and His promises, but if I really have such faith, I'll be willing to prove it by acting on it.
When we truly believe something, we act on that belief. My faith in the wiring of my house leads me to pull the cord of a ceiling light every morning, fully expecting the light to turn on. My faith in my employers leads me to work for them, fully expecting them to pay me for my time. And my faith in God leads me to strive to keep His commandments, because I fully expect that I will be blessed for my efforts to be righteous. If I didn't have faith in God and His promises, then I probably wouldn't bother trying to keep His commandments.
About a week or two ago, I participated in a Peak Adventures climbing course. Secured by a harness and a set of climbing ropes, I climbed up at least 20-30ft and walked across a log from one tree to another. Without that climbing gear, that activity would have been very dangerous and incredibly foolish. I could have fallen to my death from such a height, and as the saying goes, there's nothing easier than falling off a log. I was (mostly) comfortable with risking my life in that activity because I knew that I wasn't really risking my life. Had I fallen, that rope system would have stopped me from falling to my death. I was only willing to act because I had faith.
I wonder if my faith in God is as strong as my faith in a harness and a set of climbing ropes. Do I have enough faith to take whatever risks He asks me to take, fully expecting everything to work out alright? Do I have enough faith to follow whatever path He asks me to follow, fully expecting it to lead me to a good destination? I suppose, when the time comes, my actions will show whether I have such faith or not.
I hope I have such faith, and I want to develop such faith, just to make sure I have it, because, on some level, I believe that God knows what's best and that His plans always work out. I hope that I'll be wise enough to follow Him, even when the decisions get dicey, but that's going to take a lot of courage, or rather, it's going to take a lot of faith. I hope that, when the stakes are high, I will still have enough faith to show my faith by my works. I hope I have the courage to put my money where my mouth is, or rather, to put my behavior where my beliefs are. It's easy to say that I have faith in God and His promises, but if I really have such faith, I'll be willing to prove it by acting on it.
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Distraction and Procrastination
In his recent General Conference talk, "Be Faithful, Not Faithless," President Stephen W. Owen call Satan " the master of distraction and author of procrastination." President Owen also warned that "The adversary will try to persuade you that spiritual nourishment isn’t necessary or, more cunningly, that it can wait." As a person who tries to blog about something spiritual each day, I especially need to heed President Owen's warning.
I often find myself spending the whole day on everyday concerns and distractions, and I usually end up struggling to think of something to blog about each night because I neglected to nourish my spirit during the day. If only for my blog's sake, I should regularly devote some time to seeking inspiration, but I know that it's not only my blog and my sleep schedule that's important here.
I blog every day because I made a commitment to blog every day, but there's a deeper reason God asked me to make that commitment. I need to regularly nourish my spirit. The welfare of my soul depends on it. Maintaining my blog forces me to spend at least a few moments each day reflecting on something spiritual. Without that, I can easily imagine myself getting thoroughly caught up in the distractions of the day and up off my eternal, spiritual needs indefinitely. My blog is supposed to help me stay out of the trap that President Owen warned us about.
The thing is, it's only barely working. Yes, thanks to my blog, I reflect on something spiritual most nights, but that's not enough. For real spiritual nourishment, I need to do more than pull a quote out of a Conference talk at the last minute. I actually need to ponder spiritual matters throughout the day, not just touch on one of them at the end of the day. My blog prevents me from ignoring spiritual matters altogether, but I need to do more.
I shouldn't allow myself to become distracted like I often do, and I can't afford to keep procrastinating. My spiritual nourishment can't wait until the end of the day every day. For my soul's sake (and for my blog's sake), I should study the Gospel much earlier in the day as well.
I often find myself spending the whole day on everyday concerns and distractions, and I usually end up struggling to think of something to blog about each night because I neglected to nourish my spirit during the day. If only for my blog's sake, I should regularly devote some time to seeking inspiration, but I know that it's not only my blog and my sleep schedule that's important here.
I blog every day because I made a commitment to blog every day, but there's a deeper reason God asked me to make that commitment. I need to regularly nourish my spirit. The welfare of my soul depends on it. Maintaining my blog forces me to spend at least a few moments each day reflecting on something spiritual. Without that, I can easily imagine myself getting thoroughly caught up in the distractions of the day and up off my eternal, spiritual needs indefinitely. My blog is supposed to help me stay out of the trap that President Owen warned us about.
The thing is, it's only barely working. Yes, thanks to my blog, I reflect on something spiritual most nights, but that's not enough. For real spiritual nourishment, I need to do more than pull a quote out of a Conference talk at the last minute. I actually need to ponder spiritual matters throughout the day, not just touch on one of them at the end of the day. My blog prevents me from ignoring spiritual matters altogether, but I need to do more.
I shouldn't allow myself to become distracted like I often do, and I can't afford to keep procrastinating. My spiritual nourishment can't wait until the end of the day every day. For my soul's sake (and for my blog's sake), I should study the Gospel much earlier in the day as well.
Friday, November 22, 2019
The Vacuuming of a Sacrament Cup
This morning, I got myself into what could have been a good deal of trouble, but some prayer got me out of it again.
I was vacuuming in the chapel, and a small, plastic, Sacrament cup got stuck in the vacuum's hose. Normally, when vacuuming in the chapel, I use a larger vacuum whose larger hose can handle Sacrament cups without any issue. However, that vacuum is also heavy, and I was vacuuming up in the Sacrament Prep room, at the back of the choir seating. I didn't want to haul the larger, heavier vacuum up there, so I used one of the smaller, normal-sized vacuums instead, only to realize, an instant too late, that the smaller vacuums' smaller hoses aren't large enough to handle Sacrament cups.
The cup became stuck in the vacuum's hose. I had no way to reach it to pull it out, and I had nothing I could use to push it through. It was stuck beyond any means I could think of to get it out.
So I prayed.
Actually, I prayed as soon as I realized there was a problem and couldn't immediately think of a way to solve it. I then tried everything I could think of, to no avail.
Eventually, I had a thought that had to have been inspired. I realized that, even though I couldn't push or pull the cup out with any tool or technique at my disposal, I could still, theoretically, suck it out with the larger vacuum, so I hooked the vacuums up to each other, removed the filter from the smaller vacuum so its hose would have as little obstruction as possible, and turned on the larger, stronger vacuum. I instantly heard the cup shoot out of the smaller vacuum's hose and down the hose of the larger vacuum. The problem was solved.
And, gratefully, I prayed again, thanking God for leading me to the solution to my problem.
There is at least one analogy I can pull out of those two vacuums, and the moral is that when we face problems that are too big for us to handle, we should connect to God and trust Him to take care of the situation. Of course, God usually helps us only after we've done what we can do and it doesn't work, and His solutions still usually involve some further effort on our part, but when our limited abilities are connected to His greater wisdom, we can accomplish much more than we could have accomplished alone.
I had no way to get that Sacrament cup out of that vacuum. If I hadn't been inspired with the solution to my problem, I would have had to admit that I had made a serious mistake and that someone much more qualified then me was going to have to fix my mistake for me. But as it turns out, that kind of happened anyway. I confessed my mistake to God, and He, being much more qualified than I am, suggested a solution. And here I am now, admitting my mistake to all the world (or rather, to the dozen-ish people who read this blog).
But the thing is, there's no shame in going to God, admitting we've made mistakes, and asking for His help in solving them. He already knows what happened and how foolish we were, and He's not usually terribly judgy about it, especially when we come, not offering excuses, but humbly seeking help.
In hindsight, I'm glad I accidentally made that big of a mistake this morning, but that's mostly because I'm glad that I learned some valuable lessons from that mistake and that God graciously bailed me out of it.
I was vacuuming in the chapel, and a small, plastic, Sacrament cup got stuck in the vacuum's hose. Normally, when vacuuming in the chapel, I use a larger vacuum whose larger hose can handle Sacrament cups without any issue. However, that vacuum is also heavy, and I was vacuuming up in the Sacrament Prep room, at the back of the choir seating. I didn't want to haul the larger, heavier vacuum up there, so I used one of the smaller, normal-sized vacuums instead, only to realize, an instant too late, that the smaller vacuums' smaller hoses aren't large enough to handle Sacrament cups.
The cup became stuck in the vacuum's hose. I had no way to reach it to pull it out, and I had nothing I could use to push it through. It was stuck beyond any means I could think of to get it out.
So I prayed.
Actually, I prayed as soon as I realized there was a problem and couldn't immediately think of a way to solve it. I then tried everything I could think of, to no avail.
Eventually, I had a thought that had to have been inspired. I realized that, even though I couldn't push or pull the cup out with any tool or technique at my disposal, I could still, theoretically, suck it out with the larger vacuum, so I hooked the vacuums up to each other, removed the filter from the smaller vacuum so its hose would have as little obstruction as possible, and turned on the larger, stronger vacuum. I instantly heard the cup shoot out of the smaller vacuum's hose and down the hose of the larger vacuum. The problem was solved.
And, gratefully, I prayed again, thanking God for leading me to the solution to my problem.
There is at least one analogy I can pull out of those two vacuums, and the moral is that when we face problems that are too big for us to handle, we should connect to God and trust Him to take care of the situation. Of course, God usually helps us only after we've done what we can do and it doesn't work, and His solutions still usually involve some further effort on our part, but when our limited abilities are connected to His greater wisdom, we can accomplish much more than we could have accomplished alone.
I had no way to get that Sacrament cup out of that vacuum. If I hadn't been inspired with the solution to my problem, I would have had to admit that I had made a serious mistake and that someone much more qualified then me was going to have to fix my mistake for me. But as it turns out, that kind of happened anyway. I confessed my mistake to God, and He, being much more qualified than I am, suggested a solution. And here I am now, admitting my mistake to all the world (or rather, to the dozen-ish people who read this blog).
But the thing is, there's no shame in going to God, admitting we've made mistakes, and asking for His help in solving them. He already knows what happened and how foolish we were, and He's not usually terribly judgy about it, especially when we come, not offering excuses, but humbly seeking help.
In hindsight, I'm glad I accidentally made that big of a mistake this morning, but that's mostly because I'm glad that I learned some valuable lessons from that mistake and that God graciously bailed me out of it.
Set Up For Failure
Does God ever set us up for failure? Does He ever give us impossible tasks or make the tasks before us impossible, just so we'll fail them? I kind of doubt it. It doesn't seem like the kind of thing He would do, unless He had a very good reason.
Yet, He has one. Failing is a learning experience. Failure helps us grow and improve. There may even be some vital lesson(s) that can only be learned through failure. Don't we need to fail sometimes, as part of the mortal experience?
But of course, even if we do need to experience failure, God wouldn't have to pull any strings to make it happen. We experience plenty of failure, with or without God's influence. God doesn't set us up for failure because He doesn't have to. All he has to do is step back every so often and let life play out as it may.
When we experience failure, or any one of many other types of hardships, it's easy to feel like blaming God, yet I don't think it's usually His fault. God gave humans agency. Often, He just steps back and lets us decide what to do with that agency, whether that works out well for us or not.
Sure, there may be specific instances when God makes sure sure some doors close and others open, but in general, even if failure is an essential experience, I don't think God would set us up for it, if only because He doesn't have to.
Yet, He has one. Failing is a learning experience. Failure helps us grow and improve. There may even be some vital lesson(s) that can only be learned through failure. Don't we need to fail sometimes, as part of the mortal experience?
But of course, even if we do need to experience failure, God wouldn't have to pull any strings to make it happen. We experience plenty of failure, with or without God's influence. God doesn't set us up for failure because He doesn't have to. All he has to do is step back every so often and let life play out as it may.
When we experience failure, or any one of many other types of hardships, it's easy to feel like blaming God, yet I don't think it's usually His fault. God gave humans agency. Often, He just steps back and lets us decide what to do with that agency, whether that works out well for us or not.
Sure, there may be specific instances when God makes sure sure some doors close and others open, but in general, even if failure is an essential experience, I don't think God would set us up for it, if only because He doesn't have to.
Thursday, November 21, 2019
Try
I often let my feelings of inadequacy prevent me from trying much of anything outside my comfort zone. I'm often afraid to fail. But if I never try anything, that is also a form of failure, and it prevents me from learning and improving. It is essential to try things I might not be able to do, if only to see whether or not I can do them. I might surprise myself, if it turns out that I actually can do them, and if I can't do them, trying and failing lets me learn why I can't do them and how I might improve.
I need to practice the courage to step out of my comfort zone and try things that I might not be able to do. It might turn out that I actually am able to do those things, and I just don't know it yet. But the thing is, I will never know whether or not I can do something or why I can or can't do something until and unless I am brave enough to try.
So try new things. Shoot for the moon. Do something daring. You might surprise yourself. At the very least, you'll learn something, and what you learn will help you grow. So, whatever it is that you think can't do, you owe it to yourself to at least try.
I need to practice the courage to step out of my comfort zone and try things that I might not be able to do. It might turn out that I actually am able to do those things, and I just don't know it yet. But the thing is, I will never know whether or not I can do something or why I can or can't do something until and unless I am brave enough to try.
So try new things. Shoot for the moon. Do something daring. You might surprise yourself. At the very least, you'll learn something, and what you learn will help you grow. So, whatever it is that you think can't do, you owe it to yourself to at least try.
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
Sibling of the Savior
I heard a story (true or not, I'm not sure) about a man who paid a visit to a Primary class. Apparently, he was friends with the teacher? Anyhow, the children seemed somewhat fascinated with the man, thinking that he bore an uncanny resemblance to someone else whose picture they had seen. One of the children finally worked up the courage to ask him, "Are you Jesus?" The man wasn't sure what to say, but the Primary teacher said, "No, that's His brother."
This story (true or not, it doesn't matter) highlights an eternal truth. All people, imperfect as they are, are siblings of the Savior. He loves them like family, because they are. When we interact with other people, even strangers, we should bear in mind that not only are they our spirit brothers and sisters, but also His.
Thinking about that makes me look at others in a different light. It makes me want to treat people nicer, since they have a close, familial, if not also personal relationship to Someone with whom I want to have a close, personal relationship. It's kind of like talking to a friend of a friend. You may not know your friend's friend personally, but you still might be friendly to your friend's friend, if only for the sake of your friendship with your friend. Because Jesus loves all His brothers and sisters, He cares a lot how we treat them, so we should treat them nicely, if only to strengthen our relationship with Him.
We are currently reading the Epistle of James, Jesus' biological half-brother, and that's pretty special, but while we may not be biologically related to Jesus, we are all spiritually related to Him even closer than James was, biologically, and that's true of everyone who ever lived. Granted, there are plenty of black sheep in this family, but they're still family, and they can still end up where the Savior is if they follow the path He opened up for them and for all of us.
It's good to feel a kinship with all mankind, and we certainly have such a kinship, but it's a lot more meaningful to know that everyone on Earth has a direct, spiritual kinship with Jesus.
This story (true or not, it doesn't matter) highlights an eternal truth. All people, imperfect as they are, are siblings of the Savior. He loves them like family, because they are. When we interact with other people, even strangers, we should bear in mind that not only are they our spirit brothers and sisters, but also His.
Thinking about that makes me look at others in a different light. It makes me want to treat people nicer, since they have a close, familial, if not also personal relationship to Someone with whom I want to have a close, personal relationship. It's kind of like talking to a friend of a friend. You may not know your friend's friend personally, but you still might be friendly to your friend's friend, if only for the sake of your friendship with your friend. Because Jesus loves all His brothers and sisters, He cares a lot how we treat them, so we should treat them nicely, if only to strengthen our relationship with Him.
We are currently reading the Epistle of James, Jesus' biological half-brother, and that's pretty special, but while we may not be biologically related to Jesus, we are all spiritually related to Him even closer than James was, biologically, and that's true of everyone who ever lived. Granted, there are plenty of black sheep in this family, but they're still family, and they can still end up where the Savior is if they follow the path He opened up for them and for all of us.
It's good to feel a kinship with all mankind, and we certainly have such a kinship, but it's a lot more meaningful to know that everyone on Earth has a direct, spiritual kinship with Jesus.
Monday, November 18, 2019
Feeling Bad About Repenting
There are times when I feel bad about repenting. I don't mean that I feel bad for needing to repent; of course I feel bad about that. I mean that I feel bad about performing the act of repenting. It somehow feels like I'm adding to the Savior's burden when I repent (even though I actually did that the instant I sinned) or that I'm mocking His sacrifice by frequently making use of it.
However, I recently realized that Jesus is probably happy about us making good use of His Atonement. After all, healing people, physically and spiritually, is basically His whole shtick. He was literally born for this. Though the Lord is almost certainly irritated when we try to abuse His Atonement, He probably also gets upset when we let it go to waste.
So, while I'm still going to try not to need His forgiveness any more often than I have to, I'm going to pray for His forgiveness as often as I need it, because I'm pretty sure that's what He would want me to do. I recall having heard somewhere that The Savior Wants to Forgive, so perhaps I shouldn't feel bad when I have to ask Him to do that.
However, I recently realized that Jesus is probably happy about us making good use of His Atonement. After all, healing people, physically and spiritually, is basically His whole shtick. He was literally born for this. Though the Lord is almost certainly irritated when we try to abuse His Atonement, He probably also gets upset when we let it go to waste.
So, while I'm still going to try not to need His forgiveness any more often than I have to, I'm going to pray for His forgiveness as often as I need it, because I'm pretty sure that's what He would want me to do. I recall having heard somewhere that The Savior Wants to Forgive, so perhaps I shouldn't feel bad when I have to ask Him to do that.
Sunday, November 17, 2019
Several Lessons on Chastening and Affliction
This morning, my mom and I talked about chastening and affliction, and as I reviewed a list of potentially-blogworthy thoughts, I noticed that many of those thoughts also relate to chastening and affliction, so I figured I should blog about that, if only to cross some of these thoughts off the list.
One thing Mom and I talked about this morning is that it can sometimes be difficult to tell whether or not a given affliction is an indicator of wrongdoing. Sometimes, God chastens us to let us know that there's something of which we need to repent in order to regain God's blessings, and other times, afflictions are just a part of life, simply a result of the fact that life isn't perfect. Our afflictions aren't always calls to repentance; sometimes, they're just opportunities to grow. So, what should we do when we don't know whether a given affliction is a call to repentance or a growing opportunity? One idea is to treat it like it's probably both. First, treat it as a learning experience and (as faithfully as possible) try to learn whatever lesson God seems to want to teach you. At the same time, do a little bit of soul-searching. Nobody's perfect, so there are always at least a few sins we could stand to work on, even if the given affliction isn't a direct response to the given sin. We all have sins to repent of, and we all have room to learn and grow. Almost any affliction could be viewed as a reminder to do either or both.
Because afflictions are so useful, it's possible to view them as actually being blessings. In fact, in the eternal perspective, they are. Our afflictions help us learn and grow, and they remind us to repent. These are all good things. Sure, afflictions are unpleasant as they happen, but after we've made good use of them and benefited from the growth they fostered in us, we can look back on those afflictions and see how they worked out for our good.
Certainly, afflictions help us to grow more than a lack of afflictions does, which may be why The Book of Mormon spends several chapters covering a few months or years of war, but then skips over several years of peace in just a few sentences. Hardship is more instructive than ease. Perhaps there's more to learn from a few months of affliction than from years in which nothing goes seriously wrong. Without our afflictions, there would be less incentive to grow, so we wouldn't grow as quickly. God give us afflictions because He knows we need them in order to help us progress.
Hebrews 12:6 says "whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth," so when God chastens us and calls us to repentance, He does so out of love. God wants what's best for us, and what's best for us is to grow to become like Him. To become like Him, we have to progress toward perfection, we have to repent and become pure. Chastening reminds us to do that. Chasten helps us know when and where to turn on our path toward perfection. So, chastening isn't just punishment or retribution. It's actually very useful to us. That, I think, is why God chastens us, because He hopes that we will use that chastening as a reminder to become our best selves.
There is a lot we can learn about (and from) chastening and affliction, which may be part of why we experience it so often. God wants us to learn important spiritual lessons like these ones, and chastening and affliction are excellent teaching tools. Chastening and affliction aren't just punishment or needless suffering. There is a point to all of it, and that point works out to our benefit. That's why chastening and affliction are actually a form of blessing, sent to us by a loving God who wants us to progress toward perfection. Chastening and affliction help us do that; they may even be essential. At the very least, they're useful. We can learn a lot from our chastening and afflictions.
One thing Mom and I talked about this morning is that it can sometimes be difficult to tell whether or not a given affliction is an indicator of wrongdoing. Sometimes, God chastens us to let us know that there's something of which we need to repent in order to regain God's blessings, and other times, afflictions are just a part of life, simply a result of the fact that life isn't perfect. Our afflictions aren't always calls to repentance; sometimes, they're just opportunities to grow. So, what should we do when we don't know whether a given affliction is a call to repentance or a growing opportunity? One idea is to treat it like it's probably both. First, treat it as a learning experience and (as faithfully as possible) try to learn whatever lesson God seems to want to teach you. At the same time, do a little bit of soul-searching. Nobody's perfect, so there are always at least a few sins we could stand to work on, even if the given affliction isn't a direct response to the given sin. We all have sins to repent of, and we all have room to learn and grow. Almost any affliction could be viewed as a reminder to do either or both.
Because afflictions are so useful, it's possible to view them as actually being blessings. In fact, in the eternal perspective, they are. Our afflictions help us learn and grow, and they remind us to repent. These are all good things. Sure, afflictions are unpleasant as they happen, but after we've made good use of them and benefited from the growth they fostered in us, we can look back on those afflictions and see how they worked out for our good.
Certainly, afflictions help us to grow more than a lack of afflictions does, which may be why The Book of Mormon spends several chapters covering a few months or years of war, but then skips over several years of peace in just a few sentences. Hardship is more instructive than ease. Perhaps there's more to learn from a few months of affliction than from years in which nothing goes seriously wrong. Without our afflictions, there would be less incentive to grow, so we wouldn't grow as quickly. God give us afflictions because He knows we need them in order to help us progress.
Hebrews 12:6 says "whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth," so when God chastens us and calls us to repentance, He does so out of love. God wants what's best for us, and what's best for us is to grow to become like Him. To become like Him, we have to progress toward perfection, we have to repent and become pure. Chastening reminds us to do that. Chasten helps us know when and where to turn on our path toward perfection. So, chastening isn't just punishment or retribution. It's actually very useful to us. That, I think, is why God chastens us, because He hopes that we will use that chastening as a reminder to become our best selves.
There is a lot we can learn about (and from) chastening and affliction, which may be part of why we experience it so often. God wants us to learn important spiritual lessons like these ones, and chastening and affliction are excellent teaching tools. Chastening and affliction aren't just punishment or needless suffering. There is a point to all of it, and that point works out to our benefit. That's why chastening and affliction are actually a form of blessing, sent to us by a loving God who wants us to progress toward perfection. Chastening and affliction help us do that; they may even be essential. At the very least, they're useful. We can learn a lot from our chastening and afflictions.
Saturday, November 16, 2019
How Important Is Blogging?
I had all day to write this, but I did other things instead, and now I have ten minutes. Granted, I don't feel too bad about that because I spent much of that time working on some art and emailing a friend. Time well spent, I'd say.
Often, when I have little time left for blogging, I end up rethinking my priorities, thinking that whatever I had done was less important than writing a spiritual blog post, but I think that there are also things that are more important than blogging, and if those more important things cut into my blogging time, so be it.
Blogging is important to me, if only because I made a commitment to do it, but it still may not be the highest priority in my daily life. If I sometimes act like blogging is more important than anything else I could be doing, then maybe I do need to rethink my priorities.
Granted, I can usually blog and still do everything else I have to and should do, and when I can blog, I should. I just think that blogging isn't the most important thing in the world, and it shouldn't come at the expense of doing things that are more important than blogging.
Often, when I have little time left for blogging, I end up rethinking my priorities, thinking that whatever I had done was less important than writing a spiritual blog post, but I think that there are also things that are more important than blogging, and if those more important things cut into my blogging time, so be it.
Blogging is important to me, if only because I made a commitment to do it, but it still may not be the highest priority in my daily life. If I sometimes act like blogging is more important than anything else I could be doing, then maybe I do need to rethink my priorities.
Granted, I can usually blog and still do everything else I have to and should do, and when I can blog, I should. I just think that blogging isn't the most important thing in the world, and it shouldn't come at the expense of doing things that are more important than blogging.
Friday, November 15, 2019
People Are Not Their Parents
Tonight, I watched Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl with some of my family. One of the major plot points of the movie is that a main character, Will Turner, is the child of a pirate whose blood was needed in order to lift the titular curse. Will is upset to learn that his father was a pirate because he seems to think that taints him somehow, and perhaps, in the culture of the time in which he lived, who a person's parents are mattered more than it does now, but these days, it's fairly well understood that a person is not their parents.
People can sometimes, perhaps often, turn out very different from their parents. They say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but it can, and it sometimes does. But regardless of what amount of impact parents might have on how their children turn out, all people are individual moral entities. People don't inherit their parents' sins. Will Turner may have been the son of a pirate, but that didn't make him a pirate himself. No matter how good or bad our parents are or were, we are our own people, and, to paraphrase an Article of Faith, we are responsible for our own actions, not for our parents'.
So, we don't need to take any responsibility for anything our parents did wrong, and we cannot take any responsibility for anything our parents did right. We are our own moral entities, and we are responsible for our own actions, regardless of who our parents were or what they did. Each person needs to take responsibility for themselves, not for their parents.
People can sometimes, perhaps often, turn out very different from their parents. They say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but it can, and it sometimes does. But regardless of what amount of impact parents might have on how their children turn out, all people are individual moral entities. People don't inherit their parents' sins. Will Turner may have been the son of a pirate, but that didn't make him a pirate himself. No matter how good or bad our parents are or were, we are our own people, and, to paraphrase an Article of Faith, we are responsible for our own actions, not for our parents'.
So, we don't need to take any responsibility for anything our parents did wrong, and we cannot take any responsibility for anything our parents did right. We are our own moral entities, and we are responsible for our own actions, regardless of who our parents were or what they did. Each person needs to take responsibility for themselves, not for their parents.
Thursday, November 14, 2019
Seeking Power Isn't Evil
A lot of people and organizations catch flak for seeking power. This came up in a conversation I was in recently, and I wanted to say something about it, but I missed my opportunity, so I'll say it here: Power isn't evil, and it isn't evil to seek it.
At its default, power is neutral. Power is a tool that enables people to do things. If people seek power, that's because they want to do more and/or bigger things. Now, some people want to do bad things, and if they get enough power to do the bad things they want to do, they will do bad things, and that would, in fact, be bad. However, other people want to do good things, and if they get enough power to do the good things they want to do, they will do good things with that power, and that will actually be good. Power is neither good nor bad on its own. What matters is who has power and how they use it.
True, evil people seek the power to do evil, but it's also true that good people seek the power to do good. What makes someone good or evil is not whether they seek power, but why.
At its default, power is neutral. Power is a tool that enables people to do things. If people seek power, that's because they want to do more and/or bigger things. Now, some people want to do bad things, and if they get enough power to do the bad things they want to do, they will do bad things, and that would, in fact, be bad. However, other people want to do good things, and if they get enough power to do the good things they want to do, they will do good things with that power, and that will actually be good. Power is neither good nor bad on its own. What matters is who has power and how they use it.
True, evil people seek the power to do evil, but it's also true that good people seek the power to do good. What makes someone good or evil is not whether they seek power, but why.
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
How to Be Kind to Evildoers
One of the points that stood out to me in our Ward's Primary Presentation last Sunday is the fact that we should be kind to everyone. Of course, this is nothing new. We all know that we should be kind to everyone, but how often do we actually think about what that means or how we should try to do that?
Being kind to everyone means being kind to the people who are not kind to us. It's means being kind to those who hold and promote different political opinions and who are actively trying to make the world a worse and more evil place. And it means being kind to kidnappers and murderers and those who have committed the worst sins imaginable. How on Earth can we manage to be kind to people like that, and what forms might that kindness take?
Certainly, we shouldn't compromise our principles and politely step back and let others do terrible things to others and the world. Being kind doesn't mean tolerating all sorts of behavior. Then, what does it mean, especially in the context of evildoers?
Part of such Christian kindness must include considering the eternal welfare of everyone involved, including the evildoers. When you consider their eternal trajectory, it becomes easier to feel sorry for those who are, morally speaking, going downhill. In fact, this pity can motivate us to try to convince them to stop digging themselves deeper into the pit, and consideration for others' eternal welfare can motivate us to do everything in our power to stop wrongdoers from dragging others down with them.
Being kind to evildoers means caring about their eternal welfare enough to want to convince them to stop. It means trying to stop them from doing evil, if for no one else's benefit but their own. It means trying to redeem evildoers, not just stop them or punish them. Of course, they must be stopped, but a kind person would try to stop them for their own sakes as well as everyone else's.
Being kind to evildoers doesn't mean tolerating all sorts of behavior. It means trying to put a stop to such behavior because you pity the misery to which their behavior is leading them.
Being kind to everyone means being kind to the people who are not kind to us. It's means being kind to those who hold and promote different political opinions and who are actively trying to make the world a worse and more evil place. And it means being kind to kidnappers and murderers and those who have committed the worst sins imaginable. How on Earth can we manage to be kind to people like that, and what forms might that kindness take?
Certainly, we shouldn't compromise our principles and politely step back and let others do terrible things to others and the world. Being kind doesn't mean tolerating all sorts of behavior. Then, what does it mean, especially in the context of evildoers?
Part of such Christian kindness must include considering the eternal welfare of everyone involved, including the evildoers. When you consider their eternal trajectory, it becomes easier to feel sorry for those who are, morally speaking, going downhill. In fact, this pity can motivate us to try to convince them to stop digging themselves deeper into the pit, and consideration for others' eternal welfare can motivate us to do everything in our power to stop wrongdoers from dragging others down with them.
Being kind to evildoers means caring about their eternal welfare enough to want to convince them to stop. It means trying to stop them from doing evil, if for no one else's benefit but their own. It means trying to redeem evildoers, not just stop them or punish them. Of course, they must be stopped, but a kind person would try to stop them for their own sakes as well as everyone else's.
Being kind to evildoers doesn't mean tolerating all sorts of behavior. It means trying to put a stop to such behavior because you pity the misery to which their behavior is leading them.
Tuesday, November 12, 2019
Don't Let "Off" Moments Last
When I blogged about "Off" Moments recently, I neglected to mention that it's important to repent of them and to not allow them to last. We are all human, and so we all have bad days in which we make bad choices. However, it is important to learn from our bad choices and to learn to make better ones. We're not perfect yet, and we shouldn't burn ourselves out trying to be perfect, but we can and should be good, and we should regularly (as often as we can manage without burning ourselves out) strive to become better.
We are going to make bad choices, and as long as we are imperfect, we are going to keep making bad choices. Our goal should be to make our choices less bad and to make our bad choices less frequently. That's how progress is made; not by insisting on perfection, but in making gradual improvements.
We cannot demand perfection from ourselves or others yet, but we should keep heading in that direction. You're allowed to have "Off" Moments. Just try not to stay in them any longer than you have to.
We are going to make bad choices, and as long as we are imperfect, we are going to keep making bad choices. Our goal should be to make our choices less bad and to make our bad choices less frequently. That's how progress is made; not by insisting on perfection, but in making gradual improvements.
We cannot demand perfection from ourselves or others yet, but we should keep heading in that direction. You're allowed to have "Off" Moments. Just try not to stay in them any longer than you have to.
Monday, November 11, 2019
The Greatest Generation
This morning, I watched a video honoring those who fought in World War II. Those heroes are sometimes described as The Greatest Generation, but Matthew Griffin, whose father was a member of that generation, had some interesting thoughts about that label:
The youth in this church are, generation by generation, told that they were among the most valiant spirits in the war in heaven, and that they were chosen to come to Earth at this time because they were the ones that were strong enough to face the challenges of today. When I first realized that each generation is told that they were among the most valiant spirits, I thought that seemed contradictory. We can't all be the greatest. However, we can all be among the greatest, and we can each try to match and surpass the generation who came before us.
Naturally, we have a lot to live up to. The Greatest Generation set the bar very high. But still, I'm hopeful. We are their descendants. Their greatness flows through our veins. Using our modern resources and our own spiritual strength, we can build on the foundation they laid for us and raise a generation greater than they could have hoped. If we all build on what our forefathers created, we can build a world where each generation is greater than the last.
Granted, that's not what's happening. Many members of the current and rising generation fail to recognize what made the previous generations great. Instead, they fixate on the problems that that generation hadn't solved yet and use those problems as examples to claim that that generation wasn't great at all. Doubtless, future generations will one day look down on us for being as "backward" as we are now, even as we strive to push ourselves and each succeeding generation forward.
What I worry about is that the current and rising generations may fail to build on what the previous generations made possible and will instead destroy what the past generations accomplished and try to build something better from scratch. If they're foolish enough to try that, I hope, for everyone's sake, that they succeed, but moreso I hope they're wise enough not to try. Sure, past generations of Americans weren't perfect, but they did some good, and they built good things. If we continually build on those good things and find ways to make them even better, we will make a lot more progress than if we tear down what they've built and try to build something else from scratch.
But that's probably enough politics for me for now.
I hope that people acknowledge the greatness in others, recognize what made them great, and then use that knowledge to try to become ever greater. If we do that, if each generation builds on and improves on the greatness of the last, then it is possible for each succeeding generation to be The Greatest Generation Yet.
I know, personally, that if I were to tell my grandfather "You're the greatest generation," he would roll his eyes at me and go "You're gonna take that as a statement? Not as a challenge?" and I think that's what it should be. It should be a challenge. Like, we should be the greatest generation. We need to be the ones saving the environment. We need to be the ones ending the wars. We need to fix our problems. We just can't look back at some guys and they have the label and we're never going to aspire to that.It is self-limiting to call any generation of people, as great as they are, The Greatest Generation Ever. Rather, it can be just as respectful, but still empowering, to call them The Greatest Generation Yet. We can, and should try to, meet their level of greatness. If we fight our battles especially hard and well, we may even surpass them.
The youth in this church are, generation by generation, told that they were among the most valiant spirits in the war in heaven, and that they were chosen to come to Earth at this time because they were the ones that were strong enough to face the challenges of today. When I first realized that each generation is told that they were among the most valiant spirits, I thought that seemed contradictory. We can't all be the greatest. However, we can all be among the greatest, and we can each try to match and surpass the generation who came before us.
Naturally, we have a lot to live up to. The Greatest Generation set the bar very high. But still, I'm hopeful. We are their descendants. Their greatness flows through our veins. Using our modern resources and our own spiritual strength, we can build on the foundation they laid for us and raise a generation greater than they could have hoped. If we all build on what our forefathers created, we can build a world where each generation is greater than the last.
Granted, that's not what's happening. Many members of the current and rising generation fail to recognize what made the previous generations great. Instead, they fixate on the problems that that generation hadn't solved yet and use those problems as examples to claim that that generation wasn't great at all. Doubtless, future generations will one day look down on us for being as "backward" as we are now, even as we strive to push ourselves and each succeeding generation forward.
What I worry about is that the current and rising generations may fail to build on what the previous generations made possible and will instead destroy what the past generations accomplished and try to build something better from scratch. If they're foolish enough to try that, I hope, for everyone's sake, that they succeed, but moreso I hope they're wise enough not to try. Sure, past generations of Americans weren't perfect, but they did some good, and they built good things. If we continually build on those good things and find ways to make them even better, we will make a lot more progress than if we tear down what they've built and try to build something else from scratch.
But that's probably enough politics for me for now.
I hope that people acknowledge the greatness in others, recognize what made them great, and then use that knowledge to try to become ever greater. If we do that, if each generation builds on and improves on the greatness of the last, then it is possible for each succeeding generation to be The Greatest Generation Yet.
Sunday, November 10, 2019
The Most Incredible Miracle
Our Ward had its Primary Presentation this weekend, and they finished the presentation by performing a new (to me) song titled The Miracle, which is about the miraculous effects of the Atonement:
Second, I find it incredible that Jesus can rescue me, personally. I am far from being the worst person in the world, but I am also far from perfect. If Jesus Christ can make a perfect, sinless person out of me, then I would find that very impressive, perhaps even impressive enough to strain credulity. It's hard to believe that I could become perfect, even with divine aid, but Jesus has amazing things before. If it's true that "Nothing is at all impossible to Him," then perhaps He can, in fact, rescue me, though I still find that incredible, and I wonder, even with His divine power, how He's going to pull it off.
Whichever way you look at it, the Atonement is incredibly impressive. Through it, Jesus can accomplish feats that would otherwise be impossible, from redeeming all mankind to redeeming each individual member of mankind. The Atonement may or may not the greatest miracle Christ ever performed, since the Creation gives it a run for its money, but it very well could be the most incredible.
Jesus is a God of miracles,This is true on at least two levels. First, it's true that the Atonement was almost certainly the greatest of Christ's miracles. Creating the Earth is a contender, but paying an infinite price to make salvation possible for all mankind is still an incredible feat of divine power.
Nothing is at all impossible to Him,
But I know this:
Of all his miracles, the most incredible must be
the miracle that rescues me!
Second, I find it incredible that Jesus can rescue me, personally. I am far from being the worst person in the world, but I am also far from perfect. If Jesus Christ can make a perfect, sinless person out of me, then I would find that very impressive, perhaps even impressive enough to strain credulity. It's hard to believe that I could become perfect, even with divine aid, but Jesus has amazing things before. If it's true that "Nothing is at all impossible to Him," then perhaps He can, in fact, rescue me, though I still find that incredible, and I wonder, even with His divine power, how He's going to pull it off.
Whichever way you look at it, the Atonement is incredibly impressive. Through it, Jesus can accomplish feats that would otherwise be impossible, from redeeming all mankind to redeeming each individual member of mankind. The Atonement may or may not the greatest miracle Christ ever performed, since the Creation gives it a run for its money, but it very well could be the most incredible.
Saturday, November 9, 2019
Undeserved Service
Today, I received service I didn't deserve. Of course, I'm pretty sure that's true of every day. I don't deserve the service I receive from my Heavenly Father or my Savior or my Family. The service they do for me outweighs anything I could ever hope to deserve or repay. But that's what service is, isn't it? Doing something nice for someone, regardless of whether or not they deserve it? In fact, one might even say that no one "deserves" service because service isn't something that a person deserves, though perhaps I'm being pedantic. The bottom line for me today is that I have been the recipient of far more service than I deserve, even if it can be said that I "deserve" any service at all, and I am thankful for it. I should be more generous with my service as a way of paying forward the service that I receive but don't deserve.
Friday, November 8, 2019
"Off" Moments
Today, I was reminded that everyone has "off" days, or at least "off" moments. Even the best people have moments when they're not at their best. That's part of why it's important to be patient with people. If a person is acting badly, it may simply be that they're having a bad day, and that doesn't necessarily make them a bad person.
With only one exception, no human being has ever been perfect, which means that there are times when even the best people act imperfectly, yet they are still good, Celestial people. So let's try not to be too hard on anyone, especially those whom we've just met or those who we know are usually good. Even good people sometimes have bad moments. Having such a bad moment doesn't mean that a person isn't good.
With only one exception, no human being has ever been perfect, which means that there are times when even the best people act imperfectly, yet they are still good, Celestial people. So let's try not to be too hard on anyone, especially those whom we've just met or those who we know are usually good. Even good people sometimes have bad moments. Having such a bad moment doesn't mean that a person isn't good.
Thursday, November 7, 2019
I Put My Heart Into It
Today, I had an opportunity to practice putting my heart into something, and it kind of worked. I wasn't feeling super enthusiastic about my job at the moment, but I saw a quote about how enthusiasm can turn even mundane tasks into pleasures, so I decided to try to drum up some enthusiasm for tutoring. I reminded myself that I enjoy helping people, and that mostly did the trick. Of course, the assignment was still difficult and frustrating, the student and I were both still tired, and I may even have caught some kind of bug, but despite all of that, I managed to get (or at least sound) excited about arguing in favor of switching to veganism. I managed to "put my heart into it," even though my heart wasn't really in it, and I'm sure that doing so will get easier over time. I consciously chose to put my heart into something, and I'm pretty sure I can do it again.
Wednesday, November 6, 2019
Tailored Trials
It's been a while since I've made a blog post like this!
I like this quote because it indicates that our challenges aren't as random as we might think. God knows what we can handle, and He knows what will best help us grow. He gives us challenges that are easy enough for us to overcome, yet challenging enough to help us grow. I bet that God would make an excellent DM. I'll probably blog more about that later. But for now, I just want to be thankful that our trials aren't random but are designed specifically for us. It's comforting to know that, whatever problems we face, they're the right ones for us. God chose them for us, and He chose us to face them. He knows what He's doing. Our challenges were made for us.
Tuesday, November 5, 2019
Putting My Heart Into It
Elder Terrence M. Vinson of the Presidency of the Seventy has taught me something about why I love D&D, even though he was actually talking about rugby. He said that his enjoyment of the game was greatest when he gave it his all and played his hardest. D&D isn't a physical sport, but I still play it pretty hard. I own multiple D&D books and several sets of dice, I write pages of information about the games I'm in, I think about D&D frequently, and when I play, I employ some voice acting and body language to embody my character, and I make game-affecting decisions based on what would make the most sense for my character and what would make for the best story. As with Elder Vinson and his rugby, I put my heart into D&D, and I love it all the more when I do.
I wonder if it's possible to "put my heart into" other things as well. To use a relatively safe example, can I "put my heart into" doing my household chores, if it isn't already there? Of course, I can go through the motions. I can do the work. But will doing the work help me become emotionally invested in the work? Will doing the work help me become motivated to do it? That doesn't seem logical, but conventional wisdom says "fake it 'til you make it."
On the other hand, perhaps "fake it 'til you make it" is primarily about establishing habits. I can certainly make a habit out of doing something without really putting my heart into it. For example, I'm pretty regular about running the dishwasher and taking out the trash, but that doesn't mean that I'm passionate about either of those things.
Then again, I do get some enjoyment out of it. Loading the dishwasher is a puzzle game, like a play-at-your-own-pace version of Tetris, and I like the rumbling, thunder-like sound the garbage bins make when I roll them out to the curb. Perhaps I should follow Mary Poppins' advice and find the element of fun in the work I need to do. If I find the fun and latch on to it, perhaps I'll have found the way to "put my heart into" my work, get more satisfaction out of it, and find more motivation to keep doing it. I'm not sure I fully agree with Mary Poppins' initial premise that "in every task that must be done, there is an element of fun," but I have yet to disprove her. Perhaps she's right. And if she's right, that means that I can find a way to put my heart into any work that I need to do.
So I'm going to look for the fun in my housework, my schoolwork, my vocational work, and my gospel work. I'm going to look for excuses to become passionate about some of the things I have to do, should do, or should do more often and more consistently. I'm going to look for ways to "put my heart into" my work. Because if I find it, I can turn some of that work into play, and that might help me find the satisfaction I need to motivate me to keep at it.
I wonder if it's possible to "put my heart into" other things as well. To use a relatively safe example, can I "put my heart into" doing my household chores, if it isn't already there? Of course, I can go through the motions. I can do the work. But will doing the work help me become emotionally invested in the work? Will doing the work help me become motivated to do it? That doesn't seem logical, but conventional wisdom says "fake it 'til you make it."
On the other hand, perhaps "fake it 'til you make it" is primarily about establishing habits. I can certainly make a habit out of doing something without really putting my heart into it. For example, I'm pretty regular about running the dishwasher and taking out the trash, but that doesn't mean that I'm passionate about either of those things.
Then again, I do get some enjoyment out of it. Loading the dishwasher is a puzzle game, like a play-at-your-own-pace version of Tetris, and I like the rumbling, thunder-like sound the garbage bins make when I roll them out to the curb. Perhaps I should follow Mary Poppins' advice and find the element of fun in the work I need to do. If I find the fun and latch on to it, perhaps I'll have found the way to "put my heart into" my work, get more satisfaction out of it, and find more motivation to keep doing it. I'm not sure I fully agree with Mary Poppins' initial premise that "in every task that must be done, there is an element of fun," but I have yet to disprove her. Perhaps she's right. And if she's right, that means that I can find a way to put my heart into any work that I need to do.
So I'm going to look for the fun in my housework, my schoolwork, my vocational work, and my gospel work. I'm going to look for excuses to become passionate about some of the things I have to do, should do, or should do more often and more consistently. I'm going to look for ways to "put my heart into" my work. Because if I find it, I can turn some of that work into play, and that might help me find the satisfaction I need to motivate me to keep at it.
Monday, November 4, 2019
A "Problem" with God's Plan
Today, I read and discussed a poem that touched on The Problem of Evil, specifically man-made evil. The poem referenced one of many man-made problems and said "This cannot be what You designed." The thing is, though, it is.
God intended mankind to have agency, the ability to choose good or evil, and He designed the Earth to be a testing area, to give us a chance to prove and discover what we would do with the agency God gave us. All of us choose evil occasionally. Some people choose evil more often than not. God accounted for that by giving us a Savior who made it possible for us to repent. God knew that the evil choices of some people would cause suffering for others, and He accounted for that, too. The suffering we experience on Earth is character-building and temporary.
Sure, it stinks that some people misuse their agency and cause others to suffer, but life was bound to involve suffering anyway; that's part of the plan, and agency is essential to the plan as well. The evil caused by mankind is tragic, but it's not an indication that God didn't plan things out. God's plan accounts for all the choices people make, including all the evil choices people make. That's why He gave us the Atonement and encourages us to do good in the face of evil.
True, God doesn't want us to do evil, but the evil that people do is still a part of God's plan.
God intended mankind to have agency, the ability to choose good or evil, and He designed the Earth to be a testing area, to give us a chance to prove and discover what we would do with the agency God gave us. All of us choose evil occasionally. Some people choose evil more often than not. God accounted for that by giving us a Savior who made it possible for us to repent. God knew that the evil choices of some people would cause suffering for others, and He accounted for that, too. The suffering we experience on Earth is character-building and temporary.
Sure, it stinks that some people misuse their agency and cause others to suffer, but life was bound to involve suffering anyway; that's part of the plan, and agency is essential to the plan as well. The evil caused by mankind is tragic, but it's not an indication that God didn't plan things out. God's plan accounts for all the choices people make, including all the evil choices people make. That's why He gave us the Atonement and encourages us to do good in the face of evil.
True, God doesn't want us to do evil, but the evil that people do is still a part of God's plan.
Sunday, November 3, 2019
I'm on My Side
I keep a journal, but I sometimes wonder whether it does more harm than good. I sometimes vent my frustrations, voice my anxieties, and criticize myself in my journal. All in all, I'm too negative in my journal, but saying so kind of reinforces my point. I'm too hard on myself, and I sometimes beat myself up over being too hard on myself. It's a vicious cycle, and I hope to break it by actively being on my own side.
I want to treat myself the same way I would treat a struggling friend. I want to support myself and encourage myself. I want to congratulate myself for mini victories and help myself dust myself off from mini failures. I want to have my own back and help myself succeed.
Of course, it sounds weird to say that, and I worry that thinking of my "self" as a separate entity from myself might lead to mental problems later on, but my negativity isn't doing my psyche any favors either, and if telling myself "I believe in you" works, even a little bit, I don't care how crazy it sounds.
I've been my own worst enemy for far too long. Now I'm going to try to be my own best friend.
I want to treat myself the same way I would treat a struggling friend. I want to support myself and encourage myself. I want to congratulate myself for mini victories and help myself dust myself off from mini failures. I want to have my own back and help myself succeed.
Of course, it sounds weird to say that, and I worry that thinking of my "self" as a separate entity from myself might lead to mental problems later on, but my negativity isn't doing my psyche any favors either, and if telling myself "I believe in you" works, even a little bit, I don't care how crazy it sounds.
I've been my own worst enemy for far too long. Now I'm going to try to be my own best friend.
Saturday, November 2, 2019
The Hyde Inside
One day, I've got to read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Of course, I already know the story; upstanding scientist Dr. Jekyll makes a potion that alters his appearance and personality, turning him into the evil Mr. Hyde, but the problem is that, apparently, that's only part true. From what I've heard, the potion doesn't alter Jekyll's personality, only his appearance. Dr. Jekyll is still the same person, but in the disguise of Mr. Hyde, he releases his inhibitions and gives in to his base desires, which he otherwise would have repressed. Mr. Hyde wasn't a separate personality; he was a part of Dr. Jekyll's personality, and he wasn't created by the potion; he had been part of Jekyll all along.
Like Dr. Jekyll, we all have a Mr. (or Ms.) Hyde inside of us. We all have carnal and/or evil desires that we know we shouldn't act on. Sometimes, we suppress these desires, as Dr. Jekyll did when he acted as Dr. Jekyll, and sometimes, we give in, as Dr. Jekyll did when he acted as Mr. Hyde, but I don't think we can ever truly get rid of them, at least not without help.
Suppressing the carnal/evil parts of our natures is a short-term solution, if that, and giving in to them isn't a solution at all. We need to learn how to deal with our Mr. Hydes in the long run, if not once and for all. Given that Mr. Hyde is a part of our personality, or more poetically, our hearts, we need to find a way to change our hearts, and I know just the One to help us.
Following the Gospel and teachings of Jesus Christ can change a person for the better. It can help us develop Christlike traits, replacing the un-Christlike traits we were born with or developed in mortality. We can overcome the Natural Man, permanently, by following the Son of God.
Like Dr. Jekyll, we each have a dualistic nature. We each have a dark side and a light side. Instead of following Dr. Jekyll's example by walking in darkness at some times and following the light at other times, or his earlier example of locking our dark side in a box and pretending it isn't there, we would do well to acknowledge our dark sides (at least to ourselves and to God) and to try to overcome them. Merely repressing them doesn't work in the long run, and giving in to them doesn't do any good at all. Instead, we need to learn what our dark traits are and to seek to undermine them by practicing their related, opposing virtues. A stingy man might practice generosity, or example, and a lazy man might practice diligence. If we practice the Christlike attributes that conflict with the dark parts of our personalities, we may be able to overcome them for good.
We each have a Mr. Hyde inside of us. We can try to hide it, like Dr. Jekyll did, but the only real, long-term solution to the problem over our negative personality traits is to develop positive personality traits (Christlike Attributes) to undermine and replace them.
Like Dr. Jekyll, we all have a Mr. (or Ms.) Hyde inside of us. We all have carnal and/or evil desires that we know we shouldn't act on. Sometimes, we suppress these desires, as Dr. Jekyll did when he acted as Dr. Jekyll, and sometimes, we give in, as Dr. Jekyll did when he acted as Mr. Hyde, but I don't think we can ever truly get rid of them, at least not without help.
Suppressing the carnal/evil parts of our natures is a short-term solution, if that, and giving in to them isn't a solution at all. We need to learn how to deal with our Mr. Hydes in the long run, if not once and for all. Given that Mr. Hyde is a part of our personality, or more poetically, our hearts, we need to find a way to change our hearts, and I know just the One to help us.
Following the Gospel and teachings of Jesus Christ can change a person for the better. It can help us develop Christlike traits, replacing the un-Christlike traits we were born with or developed in mortality. We can overcome the Natural Man, permanently, by following the Son of God.
Like Dr. Jekyll, we each have a dualistic nature. We each have a dark side and a light side. Instead of following Dr. Jekyll's example by walking in darkness at some times and following the light at other times, or his earlier example of locking our dark side in a box and pretending it isn't there, we would do well to acknowledge our dark sides (at least to ourselves and to God) and to try to overcome them. Merely repressing them doesn't work in the long run, and giving in to them doesn't do any good at all. Instead, we need to learn what our dark traits are and to seek to undermine them by practicing their related, opposing virtues. A stingy man might practice generosity, or example, and a lazy man might practice diligence. If we practice the Christlike attributes that conflict with the dark parts of our personalities, we may be able to overcome them for good.
We each have a Mr. Hyde inside of us. We can try to hide it, like Dr. Jekyll did, but the only real, long-term solution to the problem over our negative personality traits is to develop positive personality traits (Christlike Attributes) to undermine and replace them.
Friday, November 1, 2019
Speaking Out Against the Crowd
Now that I am officially a month behind my schedule for blogging about General Conference, I figured that I'd better get started by revisiting Elder Holland's Conference-opening talk, but I'm not a huge fan of the first insight that stood out to me.
Early in his talk, Elder Holland shared the story of a blind man's experience with Jesus, as recorded in Luke 18:35-43:
Early in his talk, Elder Holland shared the story of a blind man's experience with Jesus, as recorded in Luke 18:35-43:
35 And it came to pass, that as he [Jesus] was come nigh unto Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the way side begging:36 And hearing the multitude pass by, he asked what it meant.37 And they told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by.38 And he cried, saying, Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me.39 And they which went before rebuked him, that he should hold his peace: but he cried so much the more, Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.40 And Jesus stood, and commanded him to be brought unto him: and when he was come near, he asked him,41 Saying, What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight.42 And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight: thy faith hath saved thee.43 And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God: and all the people, when they saw it, gave praise unto God.
It was the blind man's actions and interactions with the crowd that stood out to me. He spoke out, they told him to be quiet, and he spoke out even more. As Elder Holland said, "We smile at his refusal to be silenced—indeed, his determination to turn the volume up when everyone else was telling him to turn it down." The thing is, I'm not smiling at that. I'm worried that I might have to follow his example.
The world is headed downhill, and it needs a warning voice to help turn back the tide of Godlessness, and I worry that I might have to be part of that. I often feel like speaking out about my religious and political beliefs, but I worry what the consequences of speaking out might be. For example, if I voice my beliefs about marriage and the law of chastity, there's a fair chance I could lose my job. I know that that doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of things, but it certainly seems to matter now.
For now, I'm going to continue to be careful what I say and how I say it, even knowing that, unlike the blind man, I am allowing the crowd to silence me. Perhaps I can still support my values in gentle, socially acceptable ways. Yet, I know that several of the truths that are important to share aren't socially acceptable. Thankfully, there are still some of my values that are socially acceptable to defend, and I'll do what I can to defend them, but I'm worried about what might happen when it becomes morally imperative for me to speak out against the crowd.
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