Sunday leisurely reading

Last week in Relief Society I taught Lesson 31, which ended up being a very overwhelming task. I'm happy to report that I survived working the DVD player and never once did my knees crumble beneath me. In my preparation for that lesson, I came across two talks that have been on my mind a lot for the last couple of weeks, and thought I might share them here for your Sunday leisurely reading. They are very much worth your time.

They have brought a measure of comfort and understanding to my heart, even confirming to my soul that some words truly can heal a wounded heart. I'm grateful for the examples of really good people who have gone through really difficult trials; for the things I can learn from them and the comfort of knowing I'm in good company. 

Here's a small taste of the first talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, given at a CES fireside last year, Lessons from Liberty Jail: 

But tonight’s message is that when you have to, you can have sacred, revelatory, profoundly instructive experience with the Lord in any situation you are in. Indeed, let me say that even a little stronger: You can have sacred, revelatory, profoundly instructive experience with the Lord in the most miserable experiences of your life—in the worst settings, while enduring the most painful injustices, when facing the most insurmountable odds and opposition you have ever faced.

Now let’s talk about those propositions for a moment. Every one of us, in one way or another, great or small, dramatic or incidental, is going to spend a little time in Liberty Jail—spiritually speaking. We will face things we do not want to face for reasons that may not have been our fault. Indeed, we may face difficult circumstances for reasons that were absolutely right and proper, reasons that came because we were trying to keep the commandments of the Lord. We may face persecution; we may endure heartache and separation from loved ones; we may be hungry and cold and forlorn. Yes, before our lives are over we may all be given a little taste of what the prophets faced often in their lives. But the lessons of the winter of 1838–39 teach us that every experience can become a redemptive experience if we remain bonded to our Father in Heaven through that difficulty. These difficult lessons teach us that man’s extremity is God’s opportunity, and if we will be humble and faithful, if we will be believing and not curse God for our problems, He can turn the unfair and inhumane and debilitating prisons of our lives into temples—or at least into a circumstance that can bring comfort and revelation, divine companionship and peace.

The second talk is by Elder Neal A. Maxwell, given more than 30 years ago, also at a CES fireside, Take up the Cross:

Just as no two snowflakes are precisely alike in design, so the configuration of life's challenges differs also. Some of our experiences are not fully shareable with others. Thus, others, try as they may, cannot fully appreciate them. They must trust us, our generalizations and testimonies concerning these experiences. A few of our experiences should not even be shared. But it is useful to ponder the past examples of our partners on the pathway. 

In the midst of some of these individualized challenges, however, we may cry out on our small scale as the Savior did on the cross, or as the Prophet did in Liberty Jail. Being in agony, we will pray more earnestly, for cries of agony are not the same as cries of despair. 

Our individual experiences may not always be unique, but they are always authentic. God will even take into account our perceptions of, as well as our responses to, our trials. For those of us who do not, for instance, find claustrophobia a challenge, it is difficult to measure the terror that comes to those for whom it is such a challenge. Thus, a friend may seem to struggle unnecessarily long before finally prevailing with regard to a particular principle of the gospel. But for that individual, the struggle was real enough! We need, particularly, to understand with kindness those who are asked o go out to do battle again on a familiar field--on the very battleground where they have already suffered defeat several times. Yet some of our most difficult victories will occur on new terrain--like Joseph's in Egypt--when we do not have the equivalent of a "home court" advantage. 

We must remember that, while the Lord reminded the Prophet Joseph Smith that he had not yet suffered as Job, only the Lord can compare crosses!

Furnace of Affliction

"The thermostat on the furnace of affliction will not have been set too high for us - though clearly we may think so at the time. Our God is a refining God who has been tempering soul-steel for a very long time. He knows when the right edge has been put up on our excellence and also when there is more in us than we have yet given. One day we will praise God for taking us near to our limits - as He did His Only Begotten in Gethsemane and Calvary." - Neal A. Maxwell

The following is a little story - perhaps fictional, but still containing truth - that has helped me on many occasions to put things into perspective when in the midst of the "furnace of affliction." In particular, it has helped me through recent heartache and pain.

Years ago, a group of women met together to read the Bible. While reading the third chapter of Malachi they came upon a remarkable expression in the third verse: "And He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

Intrigued by this expression, they debated its meaning until one of them proposed to visit a silversmith and report back to her friends what he said on the subject. She went accordingly and found an old silversmith. Without telling him the objective of her errand, she begged to know the process of refining silver. He then proceeded to describe the process to her. "But Sir," she said, "Do you sit while the work of refining is going on?"

"Oh yes, Madam," replied the silversmith, "I must sit with my eye steadily fixed on the furnace, for if the time necessary for refining is exceeded in the slightest degree, the silver will be injured."

The lady at once saw the beauty and comfort of the expression, "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." Christ sees it needful to put His children into a furnace; His eye is steadily intent on the work of purifying, and His wisdom and love are both engaged in the best manner for them. Their trials do not come at random; the very hairs of their heads are numbered.

As the woman was about to leave, she thought to ask one more question of the silversmith: "How do you know when the refining process is complete?"

He then replied, "I only know when the process of purifying is complete by seeing my image reflected in the silver."


There is purpose for what we experience. We are known in such personal and intimate ways by a loving Father, who tenderly watches over us as we go through our refiner's fire. I find great comfort in knowing that He knows me and is with me every step of the way.

Rainmaker Mountain

* Rainmaker Mountain in American Samoa, photo courtesy of wikipedia.org

I've been wanting to share some of the details of our Memorial and Graveside services. But, it's been hard to know where to start. So, for now, maybe I'll just share things in parts or pieces.

To begin, I thought it'd be appropriate to continue with this topic of perspective. In my talk at the Memorial service for Elliana and Emmaline, I shared a story that was shared with me by my brother-in-law. I LOVE the message of this story and I have appreciated how much it has helped me see the events of the last few weeks in a different way.

The story is attributed to Randy Bott, who was actually my Mission Prep. teacher at BYU:

The next time you're through American Samoa I'd like you to note that there's a mountain down there called the Mapusaga rainmaker, and it's like some angry giant underneath the crust of the earth has taken his fist and thrust it skyward for 1,500 feet straight in the air, including the tabletop. Well, two teenage boys, Christmas vacation, not heavily endowed intellectually, either one of us. We decided that we would climb the mountain. 

I'm not going to tell you about the climbing the mountain, but I will tell you that before that time when I lived in American Samoa years ago, there was one road that went from one end of the island to the other. It was the most miserable thing I had ever traversed in my entire life. It was designed by the devil himself and constructed by his engineers. It was just one jig and jog after another and where there wasn't a jig or a jog there was a big pothole. 

Well, on top of the mountain, because there is no pollution in Samoa, on a clear day you can see forever. And for the first time in my life, I received one of the great revelations in my life--there was no 5,000 watt light bulb. No voice; no vision. But from 1,500 feet in the air I could see what I could not see from down there on the road, that there was purpose in the jigs and the jogs. The bush in Samoa is so thick you can't see a dozen feet off the road, and so you couldn't see that there was a huge boulder that the road had to weave around, or there was a bog hole over here that would have swallowed up the bus, or there was a village, or there was an ocean, and it just made perfect sense from 1,500 feet in the air. And brothers and sisters, from 1,500 feet in the air you couldn't see the potholes.  

I am convinced that just as sure as God lives the day will come when each of us, individually, will have the chance to stand atop the Mapusaga Rainmaker of our lives and with the Savior, be able to review all of the jigs and the jogs all the way through. And then, if not before, you will be constrained to admit that he has done admirably well your test of mortality and exaltation. Nothing is frivolous. God does not do things serendipitously. 

Bikes and Perspective

Today has been a good day. We were initially awakened by Einstein (our cat) tapping our closed bedroom door with his paws, like he does whenever we sleep in past 6am. We don't know where he learned that, but it always makes us laugh. That is a pretty good way to start the day. But, I was motivated to actually get out of bed when the phone rang. It was a close friend, inviting me to go to the Hot Springs with her today. Unfortunately I'm not able to go since my doctor said "no soaking for two more weeks." But, I appreciated her thoughtfulness.

The best part of the day, though, was hopping on our bikes and riding to the cemetery together. It has been a while since I've been on a bike... there will be soreness tomorrow morning for sure. But, it was refreshing to ride through the quiet streets this morning, with a cool breeze in the air, knowing I was doing something healthy for my body, my mind, and my spirit. I know in a few days (or maybe weeks) the sore muscles won't be so sore, and being on a bike won't feel so foreign.

So, we visited the gravesite of our girls. We decided the other day that it was something we wanted to do, while we're feeling this draw to visit there. I'm guessing we won't always feel drawn there, but for now it is a place that we want to be. It is a place of peace and inspiration for us. It always seems to put things back into perspective... and it brings us closer together.

I've found that when my perspective of this life is put in its proper place in the span of eternity, I feel lighter. The burden of doubt and fear become non-existant. I think that's been the hardest part of this experience - fighting the doubts and fears of how we'll get through today, what tomorrow will bring, and if we'll survive whatever experience is lurking around the next corner. Not exactly the recommended way to go through life.  

Fortunately past experience has taught Marc and me that Christ will strengthen us to bear our burdens with ease, and in Him we will find rest. As long as our foundation is built on Christ, whatever storms of life come, we will overcome. Whatever the future holds, we will make it with His help.

So, the challenge then is to keep our perspective in focus. I came across this quote today by an American philospoher, Will Durant:  

We want to seize the value and perspective of passing things and so to pull ourselves up out of the maelstrom of daily circumstance. We want to know that the little things are little, and the big things big, before it is too late. We want to see things now as they will seem forever -- "in the light of eternity." We want to learn to laugh in the face of the inevitable, to smile even at the looming of death.

The trick, now, is to find some way to remember that, especially as we go through the valleys along this journey. Maybe it's just a matter of mental discipline, to practice thinking about everything in life in terms of eternity... identifying the small things and the big things and giving them their proper place of priority. Yeah, I know that isn't easy... but maybe it gets easier with practice, just like anything else in life... like riding a bike.