Thoughts that Stay With Me: "If I Had the Chance to Do It Again..."

(Note: I realized later that I actually did mention this before, on 03 July 2018.  It's actually pretty similar thoughts, including the same quoted scripture, but I'll leave this second post here.  It might be interesting to compare the two posts.)

I tend to easily put things from the past behind me, and I feel like they gather dust on the back shelves of my mind rather quickly.  It seems that other people tend to remember more from their past than I do, whereas I, for better or worse, tend to not think about most of my past.  But from time to time, someone says something, surely without expecting me to find it particularly remarkable, that sticks with me for years and years.

One of these happened around the time my sister got married.  My wife and I were in Utah, and she was able to attend my sister's bridal shower, which was being held at my uncle Dale's house.  I had nothing better to do, so I tagged along to the house but remained apart from the shower activities.  While there, Dale's wife Diane took some time to talk with me.

We must have spoken for a while, and it was probably mostly just getting caught up with each other's recent life events, but I really don't remember anything she said that evening except for one sentence.  I had commented about her children, and made some general remark about how eight children is a lot.  She then responded with the sentence I will never forget.  As well as I can remember, this is what she said:

"If I had the chance to do it again, I'd have them closer together so that I could have more."

Wow.  That was my reaction: wow.  That wasn't what I expected.  I wasn't at all opposed to having children; quite the contrary, really.  I planned on it.  But that expression from her was so different from what I expect from most people.  Even a family with eight children is fairly rare, but to want more?

I once spoke with an old friend who met me and my wife for lunch.  During our conversation then, he told us that he and his wife didn't plan to have children.  It really hurt to hear him say so.  By that time, we'd already had at least one child ourselves, so we knew how joyous it could be.  Additionally, this friend had served as a full-time missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ and knew, at least on some level, that God wants us to raise children.  In the years that have followed, this friend and his wife have had at least one child, and I was glad to hear it.  But I've heard from quite a few others who have expressed similar thoughts about not planning to have children.

From Psalm 127:3-5, "Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.  As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth.  Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them".

My wife and I had many discussions over the years about when to have more children.  We didn't always agree, and sometimes had to wait.  We now have six children and have determined that we will have no more.  I accept that everyone has to be done with that period of their life at some point--eventually the mother's "biological clock" runs out even if she wants to keep going--and we reached it after our sixth child was born.  Would I have wanted more, with less space between them?  Yes; I understand now pretty well what my aunt meant.  Am I happy with my children?  So very much.  When responding to others asking how many children I have, I commonly tell them the number and then very honestly add, "And I like each one of them!"  I would encourage everyone who is able to raise children to do so (having married traditionally so that the children could be raised by both a mother and father).

Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful that my Aunt Diane expressed that thought to me all those years ago.  The world needs encouragement to follow God's will, especially related to such a vital commandment as "multiply, and replenish the earth."  The blessings and joy of parenting are boundless, and God's children, waiting to come to the Earth, need good homes where they will be loved and taught by dedicated parents.  I'm grateful beyond words to be able to raise my children.

The Will and Unity of the Father and Son

Do God the Father and Jesus Christ have the same desires--the same will?

In recent months, I've been pretty active in the comments for the Now You Know series published by the Church on YouTube.  It's been a very positive experience for me, whether helping to clarify errors stated by other users or answer sincere questions from seekers of truth.  Today the interaction brought me to a thought I'd never had about a subject that I've understood for years.

The interesting comments were in response to a video about the nature of the Godhead.  As could be expected, some Christians of other religions had some disagreements.  Some members of the Church responded and some were more proactive in their comments; one quoted Jesus Christ asking the Father if the metaphoric cup could pass from Him, of course followed by his statement, "Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done."  The Church member then suggested that it wouldn't make sense for a being to ask permission of itself and then acquiesce to itself.  I agree.  Then, in a reply, another user (whose religion was not stated), asked: "Interesting... if Jesus knew he was God, why would he ask the Father for permission? Why would he put the Father's will before his own? Do their wills differ?"

One of the major aspects of the nature of the Godhead is that They are united in purpose.  That makes it easy to raise the question, "Do their wills differ?"  If Christ subordinated His will to that of God the Father, then Their wills *must* have differed in some way.

I think the key difference in Their wills comes from the very fact that They are separate entities.  Jesus was nearing the end of His mortal experience, but still mortal, and performing an infinite Atonement for our sins that caused Him more emotional and physical anguish than anyone else has ever known.  His body was subject to pain and a natural desire to avoid or end that pain.  Thus, the Man who was experiencing the pain of the Atonement had, within Him, the will that it should stop.  However, because of His great love for His Father and for us, He put that will beneath the will of His Father, who surely empathized with His Son but yet knew that the Atonement of Christ was necessary for the salvation of all.

So during His mortal life, Jesus' mortal experiences in a physical but imperfect body would have given Him desires that, although supremely tempered and controlled by Him, were a part of His will.  That was what made His selflessness and righteousness so great.

Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  I'm grateful for His perfect example to us.  I'm also grateful to be able to continually learn through study and testimony.

No Regrets About Temple Service (and No Boredom)

It was ironic that I passed up an opportunity to serve in the temple yesterday, and then in the Elders' Quorum today we had a lesson about temples.  During the lesson I spoke to a thought I've had before: I never regret going to the temple.  And I know I should go very soon.


I've heard the life philosophy that people should live their lives without regret.  There's potentially something laudable about this way of thinking and it could potentially also be eternally disastrous.  Regret and sorrow are an enabling and motivating factor in repentance, which is crucial to our salvation; some people ignore feelings of regret and thus never right the wrongs they commit, which is detrimental beyond mortal understanding.  However, if we're determined to do what we know is right regardless of other consequences, taking action without fear of regret could be a good thing.


A determination to do what is right is what is important.  Something I've also heard is that a way to judge our actions is by asking ourselves, "Will I regret this later?", and the other way of living with less regret is to deliberately choose to do what we know God desires of us.


There have certainly been times in the past when I knew I could go serve in the temple, but didn't feel that I wanted to.  I felt like doing other things.  Admittedly, I'm selfish, and I like to do things that are fun.  But every time I choose temple service in spite of those feelings, I'm glad I did.  I've never regretted temple service; I've never walked away saying, "Man, I wish I'd done that other thing instead."


I never walk away from the temple with more money, in better shape, or higher in the esteem of the world, but I walk away with a simple peace and certainty that I did what I should.


While I'm on the topic of "never" and the temple, I'll note that despite the fact that temple service is both very quiet and very repetitive, I'm never bored there.  Ever.  To an outsider looking in, I imagine that would be remarkable.


Last thoughts for now:
The goal, moving forward, will be for me to remember that I'll be glad I went to the temple, and use that knowledge as motivation for me to go.  I'll never have to doubt that it's a good way to use my time, and I'll never have to doubt that it's God's will.  And I'll never be bored with it.