In a priesthood executive committee meeting a few months ago (one of the last), some brothers of the Church discussed ways to help the young men our ward. One, who has had more years of experience, spoke about a previous responsibility with youth in which all young mean were instructed to bring their scriptures with them to quorum meetings, and then to also bring with them a copy of the manual used for missionary instruction.
Another brother, who is currently called to work with young men, said that he couldn't ask them to bring paper scriptures because he didn't do that himself. He only kept scriptures in electronic form, on his phone.
Admittedly, I sided more internally with the first brother, and it felt kind of wrong for someone to suggest or imply that electronic scriptures were equivalent to paper copies. I had to think about it, though, in order to try to determine if there really was a difference or if it only amounted to personal custom and preference.
What difference is there? Some of the positive aspects of electronic scriptures are the convenience and the ability to carry markings with us wherever we are and whatever device we're on. Having access to scriptures through small devices that we're already carrying is a great advantage for any of us.
But one fundamental difference in paper versus phones is the inherent purpose. Mobile phones are small but powerful computers that are capable of running a variety of programs, whereas paper scriptures are nothing more than that. On one hand, Church members have many times been distracted by messaging, social media, games, or other things that their phones provide when they should be dedicating their time and attention (and their spirits) to matters at hand, such as teachers, speakers in a sacrament meeting, or even the sacrament itself. Even when people use their devices in truly appropriate ways, there's also the problem of appearance; were I to use my phone in a sacrament meeting for something like looking up a scripture, a young man or young woman or even older folk might see me and assume or wonder if I was distracted. There's just something about seeing a person staring at a phone that is unmistakably lame. But there's more to it than just distraction and appearances. I think there's great value in simply possessing and using objects that are totally dedicated to one purpose. When I bring my scriptures in their case, to various church meetings, I know that I'm doing something that I, strictly speaking, don't need to do. I could take an easier route and leave them home, knowing that I have identical content in my phone, but I'm not looking for the easy route. A phone itself exists for communication, and smart phones now have a variety of purposes but they almost all involve communication, Internet usage, entertainment, or other non-spiritual pursuits. Scripture study is likely an afterthought for most phone users because it's not the reason they have the phone in the first place. Paper scriptures, on the other hand, sitting perpetually on a table or desk in my living room or near my bed, provide a constant visual reminder that I should be studying God's written word.
I think that electronic highlighting also just doesn't feel as personal. Maybe others feel differently.
Of course many people are using electronic copies of the scriptures for good purposes these days. I use them myself, frequently. Electronic availability of scripture is a modern day marvel and allows for access to scripture by anyone. But even so, I find that there is unmatched value in possessing traditional books of scripture that is printed on paper. It's not my place to poorly judge anyone for their own scripture study practices; I don't have the wisdom to make that kind of judgment anyway. But as for me and my house, we'll always have paper.
Last thoughts for now:
When anyone studies scripture, learns from it, and grows closer to the Spirit of God by doing so, they'll receive lasting benefit, regardless of their preferred form of access. But there is value in the dedicated, printed word of God found on paper scriptures. I'll use electronic versions when needed, but I'll go to the expense and effort of keeping printed books for my personal study and general reference.
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Friday, February 2, 2018
A Day When All Wounds Will Heal
We are all wounded in life. Many times. Some of these wounds linger with us, and never really heal. I move on with life despite my unhealed wounds. Sometimes they do heal, and they're supposed to. Jesus Christ, "the Son of Righteousness [shall] arise with healing in his wings" to those who "fear [the Lord's] name". (Malachi 4:2 and 3 Nephi 25:2; also 2 Nephi 25:13) But realistically, while I can look back at some wounds today and call them healed, some are still open. I have memories of making some mistake or another in front of someone else, and I know that I misrepresented myself to them in a way that hurts. I want to give myself credit, because I know that I've given great efforts in life to love others and be the man I ought to be, but I know or have good reason to strongly suspect that those people don't see the good in me that they should.
Sometimes I just have a fairly simple memory of a merely embarrassing moment that likely wasn't memorable for anyone else. Those sting a bit but really don't matter. At other times, they were too personal with others to have gone unnoticed. What I'll relate here is personal, but almost no one sees this blog, so the risk is minimal, I imagine.
One of these things I've carried around for years is a time when I was with my second brother, his wife, and my own wife while at my mother's house. It was merely a matter of me being naive. Previously, Jeri Lynn and I had watched a slightly old movie with some unfortunately lewd humor in it. One of the characters used a word that, at the time, just sounded like a funny word, and in the film the way it was used had a funny ring to it. I didn't know what it meant, but the humor appealed to me. So back to the situation, in front of my brother and his wife, I turned to my wife and, just to be silly and share the humor, I said (to my shame), "I think I'll call you ____," using the word from the movie. My brother responded with, "I think that means something bad," and I immediately realized that I'd made quite an error by using the word without knowing its meaning, especially when the context in the film should have made me suspicious. I may have looked up the word online later. Either way, in the years that followed I never found occasion to bring up the mistake and explain it. I don't know if they even remember it, but I always felt that when understood, the mistake ought to have been forgivable.
Sometimes my mistakes were brought on by stress and hardship. After my deployment to Afghanistan, I wasn't emotionally healthy and was sometimes highly stressed out for no reason related to events surrounding me. I was on an all night duty (battalion "Staff Duty") with responsibility for overseeing physical grounds when I heard a report that someone had broken into the area and stolen a few things. I called one of the company commanders and meant to say something to the effect of it being a battalion-level event in his company area but was not recovered from the stresses I'd encountered while deployed and additionally tired from being up all night, and I used the term "company-level". The man I was speaking to reacted with a "What???" He knew me very little, but people who knew me from that unit knew me at my lowest, when I'd succeeded far less than I'd wanted because of the stresses. I'm sure the reaction in his mind must have been, "This guy is a total moron." I'm sure many people from that unit esteemed me rather poorly, having seen me only during a time of my life when I was struggling greatly.
I think I may have finally forgotten some of my life's stinging moments, but some go back even farther in time than those others. I was engaged once before marrying my wife. After that other woman called off the engagement and then broke up with me, things went poorly, to say the least, and I found myself unable to concentrate as I needed to. I couldn't think well enough to write, and failed my English 1010 class. (There's a whole dumb story about me and English classes, but that's for another time.) I wrote a couple of letters to the woman following the breakup; the first was right after the breakup and before the relationship really changed, and it was well-received. The second was later. I hoped to express some important things to her. Sadly, as I mentioned, by this time I wasn't thinking as clearly as I wanted, and sometimes people just make mistakes. Early in the letter I'd intended to write about how I had been happy to learn "to be interdependent", but I somehow fell upon the word "codependent" instead. To give myself some credit, for people who are not well initiated with the two words, they can sound similar, but the meanings are really vastly different. I never got a chance to ask her about that letter and that word, but I cannot imagine that it left a positive idea in her mind. I don't know if it really bothered her a lot or was just another brick in the wall for her. Either way, it's something that I still remember after fifteen years.
What I've described could perhaps be termed "self-inflicted wounds", in that they came from my own mistakes. There are also wounds we receive very much from others. Though both arise from misunderstanding--and I think that if we really had proper understanding we would never find reason to wound one another--even the deepest wounds inflicted by others end up being forgivable for me. I've never wanted to hold a grudge against anyone, and it's really not my nature to do so, even if the difficulties of my deployment changed me and some of the wounds I received during that time cut pretty deeply. All the same, given time, even the worst feelings I have toward others fade.
So it's my own mistakes that mean the most, and it's those wounds that can sometimes still linger.
Will those wounds heal someday also? Yes.
I say "Yes" because I know that someday we'll have understanding. Someday we'll know the trials others have gone through, and we'll have much greater sympathy for them and their reasons for doing what they've done. We'll see that we're often not so different from the people who have caused us pain, especially because we'll see very clearly how we've caused pain in other people's lives--sometimes without even knowing it at the time. And others will understand us, and the reasons why we made mistakes, and the seeming mountains of those mistakes will become so much smaller than molehills as we look out toward eternity.
We'll still be judged. We'll still end up with different degrees of glory than some people we've known in this life. But, aside from those who end up denying themselves of all of God's glory, no matter where we end up I'm sure we'll understand why things happened the way they did and we won't be angry about it. We won't be hurt any more. With a lesser or a greater degree, we'll be happy.
That will be a good day.
Last thoughts for now:
From a mortal perspective, there's a lot of time left when I'll have to continue on with hidden wounds. I hope that I'll always have the strength required for any situation despite those wounds. I don't hope for us to all have perfect understanding in this life, but I do know that one day "every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess before him. Yea, even at the last day, when all men shall stand to be judged of him, then shall they confess that he is God". (Mosiah 27:31) As the prophet Abinadi said, "The time shall come when all shall see the salvation of the Lord; when every nation, kindred, tongue, and people shall see eye to eye and shall confess before God that his judgments are just." (Mosiah 16:1) When we finally come to fully understand the love of our God and of our Savior, and when we all finally "see eye to eye", when we've struggled and struggled to be good people and find that the struggle is finally over, that will be a great day--a day when all wounds will be healed.
Sometimes I just have a fairly simple memory of a merely embarrassing moment that likely wasn't memorable for anyone else. Those sting a bit but really don't matter. At other times, they were too personal with others to have gone unnoticed. What I'll relate here is personal, but almost no one sees this blog, so the risk is minimal, I imagine.
One of these things I've carried around for years is a time when I was with my second brother, his wife, and my own wife while at my mother's house. It was merely a matter of me being naive. Previously, Jeri Lynn and I had watched a slightly old movie with some unfortunately lewd humor in it. One of the characters used a word that, at the time, just sounded like a funny word, and in the film the way it was used had a funny ring to it. I didn't know what it meant, but the humor appealed to me. So back to the situation, in front of my brother and his wife, I turned to my wife and, just to be silly and share the humor, I said (to my shame), "I think I'll call you ____," using the word from the movie. My brother responded with, "I think that means something bad," and I immediately realized that I'd made quite an error by using the word without knowing its meaning, especially when the context in the film should have made me suspicious. I may have looked up the word online later. Either way, in the years that followed I never found occasion to bring up the mistake and explain it. I don't know if they even remember it, but I always felt that when understood, the mistake ought to have been forgivable.
Sometimes my mistakes were brought on by stress and hardship. After my deployment to Afghanistan, I wasn't emotionally healthy and was sometimes highly stressed out for no reason related to events surrounding me. I was on an all night duty (battalion "Staff Duty") with responsibility for overseeing physical grounds when I heard a report that someone had broken into the area and stolen a few things. I called one of the company commanders and meant to say something to the effect of it being a battalion-level event in his company area but was not recovered from the stresses I'd encountered while deployed and additionally tired from being up all night, and I used the term "company-level". The man I was speaking to reacted with a "What???" He knew me very little, but people who knew me from that unit knew me at my lowest, when I'd succeeded far less than I'd wanted because of the stresses. I'm sure the reaction in his mind must have been, "This guy is a total moron." I'm sure many people from that unit esteemed me rather poorly, having seen me only during a time of my life when I was struggling greatly.
I think I may have finally forgotten some of my life's stinging moments, but some go back even farther in time than those others. I was engaged once before marrying my wife. After that other woman called off the engagement and then broke up with me, things went poorly, to say the least, and I found myself unable to concentrate as I needed to. I couldn't think well enough to write, and failed my English 1010 class. (There's a whole dumb story about me and English classes, but that's for another time.) I wrote a couple of letters to the woman following the breakup; the first was right after the breakup and before the relationship really changed, and it was well-received. The second was later. I hoped to express some important things to her. Sadly, as I mentioned, by this time I wasn't thinking as clearly as I wanted, and sometimes people just make mistakes. Early in the letter I'd intended to write about how I had been happy to learn "to be interdependent", but I somehow fell upon the word "codependent" instead. To give myself some credit, for people who are not well initiated with the two words, they can sound similar, but the meanings are really vastly different. I never got a chance to ask her about that letter and that word, but I cannot imagine that it left a positive idea in her mind. I don't know if it really bothered her a lot or was just another brick in the wall for her. Either way, it's something that I still remember after fifteen years.
What I've described could perhaps be termed "self-inflicted wounds", in that they came from my own mistakes. There are also wounds we receive very much from others. Though both arise from misunderstanding--and I think that if we really had proper understanding we would never find reason to wound one another--even the deepest wounds inflicted by others end up being forgivable for me. I've never wanted to hold a grudge against anyone, and it's really not my nature to do so, even if the difficulties of my deployment changed me and some of the wounds I received during that time cut pretty deeply. All the same, given time, even the worst feelings I have toward others fade.
So it's my own mistakes that mean the most, and it's those wounds that can sometimes still linger.
Will those wounds heal someday also? Yes.
I say "Yes" because I know that someday we'll have understanding. Someday we'll know the trials others have gone through, and we'll have much greater sympathy for them and their reasons for doing what they've done. We'll see that we're often not so different from the people who have caused us pain, especially because we'll see very clearly how we've caused pain in other people's lives--sometimes without even knowing it at the time. And others will understand us, and the reasons why we made mistakes, and the seeming mountains of those mistakes will become so much smaller than molehills as we look out toward eternity.
We'll still be judged. We'll still end up with different degrees of glory than some people we've known in this life. But, aside from those who end up denying themselves of all of God's glory, no matter where we end up I'm sure we'll understand why things happened the way they did and we won't be angry about it. We won't be hurt any more. With a lesser or a greater degree, we'll be happy.
That will be a good day.
Last thoughts for now:
From a mortal perspective, there's a lot of time left when I'll have to continue on with hidden wounds. I hope that I'll always have the strength required for any situation despite those wounds. I don't hope for us to all have perfect understanding in this life, but I do know that one day "every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess before him. Yea, even at the last day, when all men shall stand to be judged of him, then shall they confess that he is God". (Mosiah 27:31) As the prophet Abinadi said, "The time shall come when all shall see the salvation of the Lord; when every nation, kindred, tongue, and people shall see eye to eye and shall confess before God that his judgments are just." (Mosiah 16:1) When we finally come to fully understand the love of our God and of our Savior, and when we all finally "see eye to eye", when we've struggled and struggled to be good people and find that the struggle is finally over, that will be a great day--a day when all wounds will be healed.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Replenishing the Earth
A while back I was struck by a particular phrase in the first commandment God ever gave: "Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth." (Genesis 1:28--identical except for minor punctuation in Moses 2:28)
The word "replenish" sounds odd there. A bit of online research should show anyone that "fill" would be a more proper translation of the word, rather than something that usually means "refill". This means that "multiply" and "replenish the earth" are a bit redundant. Even so, the fact that some translators happened to choose that word (for unknown reasons) makes me think of something. I think of what it would mean to actually replenish the earth in relation to bearing more children, because as we live on the Earth, and have more children who also live on the Earth, thus using natural resources and making a mess.
For decade now there have been some people who argue that the Earth is overpopulated, and some are even proponents of laws that would limit child-bearing. This would be directly in opposition to God's first commandment. If anyone were to confront me about my large family and accuse me of wrongdoing, I would tell them that I do not believe at all that the Earth is over-populated, and that the real problem is that we're not managing the Earth and its resources well. Yes, some people on the Earth are hungry, but if we all managed the land well we could easily produce enough food for everyone currently on the Earth and more. I would tell them that the important thing is to teach children to be good stewards of the Earth, to avoid waste, and to contribute by helping others in need. There's not a lot of direct instruction from Church leaders about how to care for the Earth, and I would always want to avoid getting political (particularly as I don't trust people in government much at all in most cases but also when it comes to environmentalism), but I do believe in managing resources well and cleaning up messes. So on a personal level, I believe in picking up trash and recycling, among other things.
The other aspect to stewardship of the Earth is that it seems to be one of those topics that some Church members easily ignore. I feel that the attitude of not examining ourselves and considering ways that we should change is on of the most spiritually inhibiting factors that can be present in a person's life.
Last thoughts for now:
Granted, "replenish" in Genesis 1:28 would be better translated as "fill". That being said, as I do my part to fill the Earth with God's children, I want to teach them to care for it also, by both word and example.
The word "replenish" sounds odd there. A bit of online research should show anyone that "fill" would be a more proper translation of the word, rather than something that usually means "refill". This means that "multiply" and "replenish the earth" are a bit redundant. Even so, the fact that some translators happened to choose that word (for unknown reasons) makes me think of something. I think of what it would mean to actually replenish the earth in relation to bearing more children, because as we live on the Earth, and have more children who also live on the Earth, thus using natural resources and making a mess.
For decade now there have been some people who argue that the Earth is overpopulated, and some are even proponents of laws that would limit child-bearing. This would be directly in opposition to God's first commandment. If anyone were to confront me about my large family and accuse me of wrongdoing, I would tell them that I do not believe at all that the Earth is over-populated, and that the real problem is that we're not managing the Earth and its resources well. Yes, some people on the Earth are hungry, but if we all managed the land well we could easily produce enough food for everyone currently on the Earth and more. I would tell them that the important thing is to teach children to be good stewards of the Earth, to avoid waste, and to contribute by helping others in need. There's not a lot of direct instruction from Church leaders about how to care for the Earth, and I would always want to avoid getting political (particularly as I don't trust people in government much at all in most cases but also when it comes to environmentalism), but I do believe in managing resources well and cleaning up messes. So on a personal level, I believe in picking up trash and recycling, among other things.
The other aspect to stewardship of the Earth is that it seems to be one of those topics that some Church members easily ignore. I feel that the attitude of not examining ourselves and considering ways that we should change is on of the most spiritually inhibiting factors that can be present in a person's life.
Last thoughts for now:
Granted, "replenish" in Genesis 1:28 would be better translated as "fill". That being said, as I do my part to fill the Earth with God's children, I want to teach them to care for it also, by both word and example.
A Bit of Good Advice for a Successful Marriage
Sometime when I was newly married, when I was living in our first apartment, my father visited me and gave me two pieces of advice for having a successful marriage. (It might have even been in the month before our marriage, before my wife moved in.) Sadly, I don't remember the first of his suggestions, but I have always remembered the second. He said:
"Always let your wife do what she wants with her hair."
That might sounds simple, but I think there's more to it than hairstyles. It really strikes home with some, people, too; perhaps a year or so later I was in a marriage class at church and when we were asked about this subject (making marriage succeed) and I mentioned the advice my father gave me, one of the sisters in the front row responded with an energetic "Woohoo!" (or some similar exclamation).
I say that a woman ought to be entirely able to choose her hairstyle (including the length) for herself. Sure, her husband will generally have preferences, and she ought to consider them, but the decision should be hers. It's her body and her appearance; not only does she clearly have the greatest interest in her appearance, she is the only one with any real claim to control over it.
In past eras or other cultures, it might be highly normal for a husband to dictate certain things like his wife's hairstyle. In the modern U.S. that kind of practice or attitude is surely less common, though (and this is mostly speculation) it might be more likely in the homes of some latter-day saints. Members of the church are used to the idea of men being the leader in the home, responsible for guiding the family as the patriarch and priesthood holder. There's justification for this way of living, and also some very clear warnings in Doctrine and Covenants Section 121:37 against "exercise[ing] control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness".
If my father's advice sounds to any women out there like something to celebrate, it's an indication that some husbands are exceeding the proper bounds of their decision-making authority. There are times when it's important for a husband and father to seek out revelation for his family, and times when he should express conviction related to what his family should do, but there are also times when his wife's decisions are personal and he should not try to interfere. If a wife feels like her husband is being domineering, he should genuinely listen to and consider her complaint, and if he's compelling her to the point where she doesn't feel like she's able to make any personal decisions for herself, it's basically a guarantee that he's doing things wrong in a way that is depriving them both of a lot of happiness.
Granted, a wife can definitely be the domineering spouse within a marriage, but in those cases it's the exception to the typical cultural phenomenon for Church members.
Last thoughts for now:
I don't want to focus on the negative side of this, and I would hate to give the impression that domineering spouses are more prevalent than they really are. I do think it's important to remember the sentiment behind my father's advice. We ought to respect our husbands and wives and their God-given agency.
(Also, as a side note, my wife does listen to my preferences for her hair and, while she is totally free to choose her hairstyle and length, she has never chosen something that I would dislike. And she's beautiful.)
"Always let your wife do what she wants with her hair."
That might sounds simple, but I think there's more to it than hairstyles. It really strikes home with some, people, too; perhaps a year or so later I was in a marriage class at church and when we were asked about this subject (making marriage succeed) and I mentioned the advice my father gave me, one of the sisters in the front row responded with an energetic "Woohoo!" (or some similar exclamation).
I say that a woman ought to be entirely able to choose her hairstyle (including the length) for herself. Sure, her husband will generally have preferences, and she ought to consider them, but the decision should be hers. It's her body and her appearance; not only does she clearly have the greatest interest in her appearance, she is the only one with any real claim to control over it.
In past eras or other cultures, it might be highly normal for a husband to dictate certain things like his wife's hairstyle. In the modern U.S. that kind of practice or attitude is surely less common, though (and this is mostly speculation) it might be more likely in the homes of some latter-day saints. Members of the church are used to the idea of men being the leader in the home, responsible for guiding the family as the patriarch and priesthood holder. There's justification for this way of living, and also some very clear warnings in Doctrine and Covenants Section 121:37 against "exercise[ing] control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness".
If my father's advice sounds to any women out there like something to celebrate, it's an indication that some husbands are exceeding the proper bounds of their decision-making authority. There are times when it's important for a husband and father to seek out revelation for his family, and times when he should express conviction related to what his family should do, but there are also times when his wife's decisions are personal and he should not try to interfere. If a wife feels like her husband is being domineering, he should genuinely listen to and consider her complaint, and if he's compelling her to the point where she doesn't feel like she's able to make any personal decisions for herself, it's basically a guarantee that he's doing things wrong in a way that is depriving them both of a lot of happiness.
Granted, a wife can definitely be the domineering spouse within a marriage, but in those cases it's the exception to the typical cultural phenomenon for Church members.
Last thoughts for now:
I don't want to focus on the negative side of this, and I would hate to give the impression that domineering spouses are more prevalent than they really are. I do think it's important to remember the sentiment behind my father's advice. We ought to respect our husbands and wives and their God-given agency.
(Also, as a side note, my wife does listen to my preferences for her hair and, while she is totally free to choose her hairstyle and length, she has never chosen something that I would dislike. And she's beautiful.)
Sunday, September 10, 2017
Peace, Not As the World Giveth
I'm a blessed man. Downright spoiled right now, in fact. That's what I tell everyone. Beyond being blessed by the restored gospel and having a wonderful family, I have a good income and I'm able to pursue good professional opportunities. I have an extremely flexible schedule at the moment.
I have a lot of little things that bring me some measure of happiness, like books and movies. I'm able to chat with distant friends via text message. I'm in good health. I have clean water to drink and bathe in and access to a wide variety of food that is either healthy, good-tasting, or both. I have a comfortable home. (And carpet; my standard for being rich, on a global scale, is having carpet, so overall I'm doing really well.) I live in a land that values and preserves a great deal of personal liberty.
Being blessed as I am and being currently free from severe stress makes it easy to feel happy. I think that sometimes similar conditions have led people to overlook the source of true, lasting happiness and real, eternal peace.
What if I were to lose the things I have?
People experience loss. There is a limitless amount of precedent for misfortune and loss, and it's entirely plausible that I could lose almost all of the things I listed above, and much more. I doubt that I would lose them all together, like Job, but it's possible that any day I could experience significant loss on any given day. Tragedy sometimes occurs on a personal level, and sometimes with much larger scope. Nations fall. Natural disasters, war, and other problems displace thousands and millions. I could break a limb or get cancer or otherwise fall ill. My house could burn down, with all of my possessions in it. I sincerely hope it will not happen, but my wife or children could experience grave injury. But what if? What if I were to lose these things that bring me happiness?
I know that regardless of any particular blessing or the loss of it, no matter how much misfortune may come my way, I can still be right before God. No matter what I could lose, I could still dedicate myself to righteousness and service to God and others. And that would bring me peace, "not as the world giveth" (John 14:27), but as Jesus Christ gives to all those who earnestly follow Him.
To say this is the sort of thing that would have superstitious people knocking on wood. Indeed, I do not ask for trouble or loss to enter my life. But, having mentioned Job, I know that any of us can show the same commitment to following Christ that he showed, despite any loss.
Last thoughts for now:
It's easy to say that I could be committed like that. But I know it's possible. I know that we can make that kind of choice. In the meanwhile, I hope to make that kind of commitment without needing tragedy to spur me on. But if tragedy should befall me, I know that I can still receive the peace that our Savior brings.
I have a lot of little things that bring me some measure of happiness, like books and movies. I'm able to chat with distant friends via text message. I'm in good health. I have clean water to drink and bathe in and access to a wide variety of food that is either healthy, good-tasting, or both. I have a comfortable home. (And carpet; my standard for being rich, on a global scale, is having carpet, so overall I'm doing really well.) I live in a land that values and preserves a great deal of personal liberty.
Being blessed as I am and being currently free from severe stress makes it easy to feel happy. I think that sometimes similar conditions have led people to overlook the source of true, lasting happiness and real, eternal peace.
What if I were to lose the things I have?
People experience loss. There is a limitless amount of precedent for misfortune and loss, and it's entirely plausible that I could lose almost all of the things I listed above, and much more. I doubt that I would lose them all together, like Job, but it's possible that any day I could experience significant loss on any given day. Tragedy sometimes occurs on a personal level, and sometimes with much larger scope. Nations fall. Natural disasters, war, and other problems displace thousands and millions. I could break a limb or get cancer or otherwise fall ill. My house could burn down, with all of my possessions in it. I sincerely hope it will not happen, but my wife or children could experience grave injury. But what if? What if I were to lose these things that bring me happiness?
I know that regardless of any particular blessing or the loss of it, no matter how much misfortune may come my way, I can still be right before God. No matter what I could lose, I could still dedicate myself to righteousness and service to God and others. And that would bring me peace, "not as the world giveth" (John 14:27), but as Jesus Christ gives to all those who earnestly follow Him.
To say this is the sort of thing that would have superstitious people knocking on wood. Indeed, I do not ask for trouble or loss to enter my life. But, having mentioned Job, I know that any of us can show the same commitment to following Christ that he showed, despite any loss.
Last thoughts for now:
It's easy to say that I could be committed like that. But I know it's possible. I know that we can make that kind of choice. In the meanwhile, I hope to make that kind of commitment without needing tragedy to spur me on. But if tragedy should befall me, I know that I can still receive the peace that our Savior brings.
Sunday, January 8, 2017
Crises of Faith
Sometimes fast and testimony meetings end up having themes. Today's meeting was kind of like that, with a theme being the right way to handle a questions about the Church. One sister bore her testimony of how she had harbored doubts for a while, but had eventually had them alleviated essentially through true doctrine. One of my favorite parts of the Gospel is that we can pray to Heavenly Father for a witness of truth from Him, especially when troubled, and for me, the simple answer for any crisis of faith is to pray. Once we receive a witness from the Holy Ghost, we can know whatever we really need to know.
There's something else that qualifies as a crisis of faith in a very different sense but with the same solution. At times we may be in quite a different situation; we may know exactly what we need to do but lack the faith to do it. The answer again is to pray for a witness of the Holy Ghost, though in this case what's more important than new knowledge is the inspiration to act on our knowledge.
Even Jesus Christ prayed for strength to do His Father's will when in a difficult situation, and when he would have preferred another way, as he prepared himself for the Atonement. That probably doesn't qualify as a "crisis of faith" for Him, but He did show us what to do when we are in the middle of our own crises.
Last thoughts for now:
The great test of life is how we will submit ourselves to God's will. Jesus Christ gave an amazingly powerful example to us, and we can follow it. Prayer can bring us knowledge and inspiration from the Holy Ghost.
There's something else that qualifies as a crisis of faith in a very different sense but with the same solution. At times we may be in quite a different situation; we may know exactly what we need to do but lack the faith to do it. The answer again is to pray for a witness of the Holy Ghost, though in this case what's more important than new knowledge is the inspiration to act on our knowledge.
Even Jesus Christ prayed for strength to do His Father's will when in a difficult situation, and when he would have preferred another way, as he prepared himself for the Atonement. That probably doesn't qualify as a "crisis of faith" for Him, but He did show us what to do when we are in the middle of our own crises.
Last thoughts for now:
The great test of life is how we will submit ourselves to God's will. Jesus Christ gave an amazingly powerful example to us, and we can follow it. Prayer can bring us knowledge and inspiration from the Holy Ghost.
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Alternatives to Obeying the Law
This thought starts with something not spiritual at all. I drive according to the speed limit. Admittedly, I used to be more careful, but I still consider it personally unacceptable to exceed that limit. This means that I tend to drive slower than most people around me. I don't mind that. People tend to be polite and don't tell me I should drive faster, yet as with everything else, there is always a subtle pressure to conform to what everyone else is doing. There are surely those who would look down on me for restricting myself to obeying a law that most people don't obey, especially in light of countless reasons to drive faster. This was on my mind the other day, so I asked myself if I didn't follow the speed limit, what else would I do?
One of my options would be to match the speed of those around me, or, if I didn't happen to be in much traffic, to try to go as fast as I thought other people would drive if they were there. I don't like this idea because I believe in acting out of principle. I have a good mind that can think through problems and come up with reasons for taking any particular action, and I can use it when determining my driving speed rather than just going with the flow. Sure, there are a lot of social conventions that are harmless to follow, where it would be more trouble than it's worth to defy, but if it comes to social pressure vs. principle, principle will always be more important for me.
Another option would be to increase my speed but limit myself to only going five miles per hour over the speed limit. This is a pretty common practice, because people (like me) often want to take as little time as possible to get somewhere, but are content to get away with breaking the law a little bit when they know they won't get in trouble for it (which is not much like me). In this case, people driving five-over are still constrained by the law without respecting it. I don't like that. To undermine one law is to undermine the rule of law in general, and I believe in law. I believe that the commandments of God and usually the laws of the land are there for our benefit, and I don't want to undermine them.
I could also go flying down the road at very high speeds. I see people do this commonly, and I always think poorly of their actions. Not only would such an action show blatant disrespect for the law, but it can be very dangerous. It also sends a clear message to everyone that the driver considers himself or herself to be more important than everyone else, because there's no practical way that everyone could drive recklessly on the road. Even if I knew that there were no police officers or cameras on a given stretch of road, I wouldn't want to do this.
So the alternatives to obeying the law aren't acceptable to me.
I made the distinction between God's commandments and the laws of men. In matters such as the payment of tithing, no one is going to fine me or imprison me for not obeying the law. If I were to openly break the Word of Wisdom I wouldn't get tossed in jail either. So when I choose to obey the commandments, it's because I know the value of the law and the blessing I receive from obeying it.
As with man-made laws, people tend to have social conventions regarding obedience to the laws of God. The social pressure in a given context may be to obey the commandments or to disobey them. I don't ever want to obey commandments only because it's the socially acceptable thing to do, and I do want to obey them even if it's not popular. I'm not immune to social pressure; I do worry about being too concerned with what people think of me, and there have surely been times when social pressure has led me to do the right thing when I wouldn't have otherwise, but I believe in doing what is right just because it is right.
As a disclaimer, when my baby was born recently I sped while driving from an airport to the hospital. I bear in mind President Monson's words that "it is easier to keep the commandments 100 percent of the time than it is 98 percent of the time." But especially after missing the birth of my last child, I wanted to be there for this one. So my obedience to law is evidently not perfect, but after this experience I've continued in my regular driving habits.
Last thoughts for now:
I believe in obeying the commandments because they are God's will and He loves us and knows what is best for us. I believe in doing the right thing out of principle. What's really most important to me is knowing that I stand well with God and with myself. I will need the mercy of Jesus Christ, but I want to merit it by truly being His disciple.
One of my options would be to match the speed of those around me, or, if I didn't happen to be in much traffic, to try to go as fast as I thought other people would drive if they were there. I don't like this idea because I believe in acting out of principle. I have a good mind that can think through problems and come up with reasons for taking any particular action, and I can use it when determining my driving speed rather than just going with the flow. Sure, there are a lot of social conventions that are harmless to follow, where it would be more trouble than it's worth to defy, but if it comes to social pressure vs. principle, principle will always be more important for me.
Another option would be to increase my speed but limit myself to only going five miles per hour over the speed limit. This is a pretty common practice, because people (like me) often want to take as little time as possible to get somewhere, but are content to get away with breaking the law a little bit when they know they won't get in trouble for it (which is not much like me). In this case, people driving five-over are still constrained by the law without respecting it. I don't like that. To undermine one law is to undermine the rule of law in general, and I believe in law. I believe that the commandments of God and usually the laws of the land are there for our benefit, and I don't want to undermine them.
I could also go flying down the road at very high speeds. I see people do this commonly, and I always think poorly of their actions. Not only would such an action show blatant disrespect for the law, but it can be very dangerous. It also sends a clear message to everyone that the driver considers himself or herself to be more important than everyone else, because there's no practical way that everyone could drive recklessly on the road. Even if I knew that there were no police officers or cameras on a given stretch of road, I wouldn't want to do this.
So the alternatives to obeying the law aren't acceptable to me.
I made the distinction between God's commandments and the laws of men. In matters such as the payment of tithing, no one is going to fine me or imprison me for not obeying the law. If I were to openly break the Word of Wisdom I wouldn't get tossed in jail either. So when I choose to obey the commandments, it's because I know the value of the law and the blessing I receive from obeying it.
As with man-made laws, people tend to have social conventions regarding obedience to the laws of God. The social pressure in a given context may be to obey the commandments or to disobey them. I don't ever want to obey commandments only because it's the socially acceptable thing to do, and I do want to obey them even if it's not popular. I'm not immune to social pressure; I do worry about being too concerned with what people think of me, and there have surely been times when social pressure has led me to do the right thing when I wouldn't have otherwise, but I believe in doing what is right just because it is right.
As a disclaimer, when my baby was born recently I sped while driving from an airport to the hospital. I bear in mind President Monson's words that "it is easier to keep the commandments 100 percent of the time than it is 98 percent of the time." But especially after missing the birth of my last child, I wanted to be there for this one. So my obedience to law is evidently not perfect, but after this experience I've continued in my regular driving habits.
Last thoughts for now:
I believe in obeying the commandments because they are God's will and He loves us and knows what is best for us. I believe in doing the right thing out of principle. What's really most important to me is knowing that I stand well with God and with myself. I will need the mercy of Jesus Christ, but I want to merit it by truly being His disciple.
Sunday, July 3, 2016
A Full Quiver
I believe it was at my sister's wedding shower, at my Uncle Dale and Aunt Diane's house during some regular conversation, that Diane said one of those very simple things that I have always remembered (much like another simple statement about parenthood I mentioned before at http://inspirationandmusings.blogspot.com/2008/11/joy-of-fatherhood.html). We were discussing family and I made some generic comment about them having quite a few children. (They have eight.)
Diane responded, saying, "If I could do it again I would have them closer together, so that I could have more."
That quotation might not be word-for-word, but the idea is clear. It is a sentiment that is vastly different from the majority of people in the world. Many have few children, and some have none at all by their own choice. People often enough speak of children as being a burden or a hassle, and in some ways it's very easy to sympathize with them. But Diane saw a value in her children that inspired her to keep having them until she no longer could.
As for myself, I see parenthood as a great task, a great honor, and a great joy. Psalms 127:4-5 reads, "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 quiver now has five children; I don't think that's quite "full", but each of my children makes me happy.
Maybe I value my aunt's words partially because I like to think differently from the worldly masses, but I felt truth in what she said, or rather in the implication that it is a great blessing to have many children, and that the attitude that will be the best for us is one that brings us to seek out the joys of parenthood in great measure. I know that many people are medically unable to have children, or to have more children, and I know I am very blessed with the children I have.
Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful for my children, and grateful to my wife for not only bearing them for me but also for showing such astounding dedication to raising them well and for supporting me as I follow my heart in parenting, even when it means doing some unusual or uncommon things. I don't know how many children I'll end up with, but I'm glad for those who are with me.
Diane responded, saying, "If I could do it again I would have them closer together, so that I could have more."
That quotation might not be word-for-word, but the idea is clear. It is a sentiment that is vastly different from the majority of people in the world. Many have few children, and some have none at all by their own choice. People often enough speak of children as being a burden or a hassle, and in some ways it's very easy to sympathize with them. But Diane saw a value in her children that inspired her to keep having them until she no longer could.
As for myself, I see parenthood as a great task, a great honor, and a great joy. Psalms 127:4-5 reads, "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 quiver now has five children; I don't think that's quite "full", but each of my children makes me happy.
Maybe I value my aunt's words partially because I like to think differently from the worldly masses, but I felt truth in what she said, or rather in the implication that it is a great blessing to have many children, and that the attitude that will be the best for us is one that brings us to seek out the joys of parenthood in great measure. I know that many people are medically unable to have children, or to have more children, and I know I am very blessed with the children I have.
Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful for my children, and grateful to my wife for not only bearing them for me but also for showing such astounding dedication to raising them well and for supporting me as I follow my heart in parenting, even when it means doing some unusual or uncommon things. I don't know how many children I'll end up with, but I'm glad for those who are with me.
Sunday, July 26, 2015
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.
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.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Fairness
I recently heard a Gospel Doctrine class instructor comment about how she felt bad for the five foolish virgins and the slothful servant spoken of in Matthew 25. I sympathize. Granted, these story characters are fictional, but the reason that the parables are so poignant is that the characters have real-life applicability is that people around us make the choices that these characters make.
So I feel bad for them, too. I don't think what happens to them is unfair or unjust; it's completely fair for an authority to decree terms and reward only those who abide by those terms. I feel bad that they make the wrong choices and earn their just but unpleasant rewards.
(Granted, I fully acknowledge that sometimes I make bad choices and deprive myself of blessings, but I certainly hope to be faithful and fulfill God's plan in my life.)
I would think that the average person would agree that God's judgments are just (and certainly in our own judgment day, faced with full knowledge, it would be pointless to argue), but what some people might say is unfair is that while all ten virgins had an equal chance of succeeding, the three servants clearly had different circumstances to begin with, having been given different amounts of "talents".
Is it unfair?
Prophets have made a comparison stating that this mortal life is merely the second act in a three-act play. What appears to be the beginning is, in fact, not the beginning at all. Similarly, in the parable of the talents, the beginning of the servants' story is really not their beginning. We might ask, "Why would the lord give his servants unequal portions?" The answer is simple: he knew them. These were not servants he had just hired off the street, but probably servants he'd had in his household for years, and "he gave...talents...to every man according to his several ability" (verse 15). He gave five talents to one because, after observing him and coming to know him, the lord knew that he would make good use of those five talents.
Of course, we still are free to choose what we do with the "talents" that the Lord gives us, and sometimes even a five-talent child of God ruins his or her opportunity, but He still gives us an opportunity. How did the lord of the parable treat the slothful servant? He surely didn't expect as much of that one, but still gave him a great opportunity. One talent is no small amount of money. If it is likely that the servant will waste his opportunity, wouldn't squandering five talents be even worse than squandering one?
Another point of fairness is the reward for the faithful. Regardless of the size of the stewardship, the reward is the same. The lord's words to his faithful servants were identical, and they surely would have been the same for the third servant if he'd been faithful also. The end goal of the Plan of Salvation is the greatest possible: "all that [our] Father hath shall be given unto him." (Doctrine and Covenants 84:38) If a five-talent servant and a two-talent servant both end up with everything, neither has anything to complain about.
Last thoughts for now:
I keep going to church, praying with my family, and doing a lot of other things while maintaining a religious focus in all aspects of my life because I know the Plan of Salvation is true and good, and I hope to receive what God wants to give me. I hope he'll say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant". If, however, I failed, I would always admit that His gifts to me and His judgments were fair.
So I feel bad for them, too. I don't think what happens to them is unfair or unjust; it's completely fair for an authority to decree terms and reward only those who abide by those terms. I feel bad that they make the wrong choices and earn their just but unpleasant rewards.
(Granted, I fully acknowledge that sometimes I make bad choices and deprive myself of blessings, but I certainly hope to be faithful and fulfill God's plan in my life.)
I would think that the average person would agree that God's judgments are just (and certainly in our own judgment day, faced with full knowledge, it would be pointless to argue), but what some people might say is unfair is that while all ten virgins had an equal chance of succeeding, the three servants clearly had different circumstances to begin with, having been given different amounts of "talents".
Is it unfair?
Prophets have made a comparison stating that this mortal life is merely the second act in a three-act play. What appears to be the beginning is, in fact, not the beginning at all. Similarly, in the parable of the talents, the beginning of the servants' story is really not their beginning. We might ask, "Why would the lord give his servants unequal portions?" The answer is simple: he knew them. These were not servants he had just hired off the street, but probably servants he'd had in his household for years, and "he gave...talents...to every man according to his several ability" (verse 15). He gave five talents to one because, after observing him and coming to know him, the lord knew that he would make good use of those five talents.
Of course, we still are free to choose what we do with the "talents" that the Lord gives us, and sometimes even a five-talent child of God ruins his or her opportunity, but He still gives us an opportunity. How did the lord of the parable treat the slothful servant? He surely didn't expect as much of that one, but still gave him a great opportunity. One talent is no small amount of money. If it is likely that the servant will waste his opportunity, wouldn't squandering five talents be even worse than squandering one?
Another point of fairness is the reward for the faithful. Regardless of the size of the stewardship, the reward is the same. The lord's words to his faithful servants were identical, and they surely would have been the same for the third servant if he'd been faithful also. The end goal of the Plan of Salvation is the greatest possible: "all that [our] Father hath shall be given unto him." (Doctrine and Covenants 84:38) If a five-talent servant and a two-talent servant both end up with everything, neither has anything to complain about.
Last thoughts for now:
I keep going to church, praying with my family, and doing a lot of other things while maintaining a religious focus in all aspects of my life because I know the Plan of Salvation is true and good, and I hope to receive what God wants to give me. I hope he'll say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant". If, however, I failed, I would always admit that His gifts to me and His judgments were fair.
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