Keep Trying (a Guest Post)

Remarks given by Michelle in our Sacrament meeting on November 22, 2015:

Two Truths and a Lie

I’d like to introduce myself by playing a little game with you. Some of you may be familiar with this game.  It’s called, “Two Truths and a Lie.”  For those of you who don’t know how to play, here’s how it works:  I’m going to make 3 statements about myself, 2 of which are true, and one of which is a lie.  It is then up to you to discern which of the 3 is the lie. 

Here we go:

1.      I once helped police solve a crime.

2.      I have never broken a bone.

3.      I have had the chicken pox 4 times.

Now, decide in your mind which is the lie.  Ready for the answer? 

If you thought that me helping police to solve a crime is the lie, you were wrong.  It is true, and yes, there is a story behind it, but, in the interest of time, I’m going to leave you in suspense on that one.  If you want to hear it, you’ll have to chat with me later.

If you thought that I was lying when I said I’ve never broken a bone, you were right.  It is a lie.  I broke my ankle when I was 17, which means, that yes, #3 is true. I DID have the chicken pox 4 times as a child. 

Now, I’m not the only one who likes to play “Two Truths and a Lie.”  In fact, I know someone who is an absolute master at it.  He is particularly adept at crafting the lie.  He’s so good, in fact, there is not a single person who plays with him, that does not, at one time or another, and to varying degrees, fall for his lies.  You may have guessed, I am referring to the Father of All Lies, our adversary, Satan.

A Different Perspective

The topic I was given is “The Softer Addiction in Habits that Prevent Progress.”  Now, if I had been given this topic even a couple of years ago, I think I would have, at least initially, reacted with some anxiety.  Words like “addiction,” “habits,” and “preventing progress,” carry a lot of weight, especially when applied to our behavior.  Indeed, I’m sure I would have approached the topic by ticking off a list my own shortcomings, lamenting not only their number, but how long, and how often I’d repeated some of them.  I’d think of areas in which I’d grown complacent, and in my soul searching would surely have been reminded of how very far from perfection I am, which recognition would have carried with it feelings of guilt and shame.  I would certainly have known that I was an inadequate speaker for the topic.

Now, as I mentioned before, Satan is expert at feeding us lies.  One of his favorite tactics, is planting in our minds thoughts of despair and discouragement, meant to halt our progress and create distance between us and our Heavenly Father.  And it works.  At least, it certainly has with me.

Perhaps some of you can relate.  I suspect as members of the church that most of us, are painfully aware of our weakness and how far from perfection we are.  Likely all of us can tick off a list of shortcomings that plague us, some of which we may have struggled with for a significant length of time, perhaps even all of our lives.  And, like me, many of you may also feel inadequate, or discouraged, or perhaps even unworthy.

But, over the last few years, the Lord has taught me a different perspective - one counter to Satan’s message of shame and despair - that has changed how I view my own habits, weaknesses, and struggles.  And it is through that lens that I would like to share with you today “Two Truths and a Lie” I’ve learned regarding “habits that prevent progression.” 

My message today is particularly intended for those of us who, like me, from time to time, when considering our weakness, find ourselves discouraged, disheartened, or even despairing.  I pray that it will be a message of hope, and through the Spirit, you might be able to see yourself through the Lord eyes.

Truth #1:  Habits and Weakness are a Part of God’s Plan for Our Spiritual Development. 

I think we can agree that our God is a God of high expectations.  In the gospel, we are taught the ideal.  Apart from a rather lengthy list of “thou shalts,” and “thou shalt nots,” the Lord further instructs us, “…what manner of men ought ye to be?  Verily I say unto you, even as I am” (3 Nephi 27:27), and even commands us to “Be ye therefore perfect…” (Matthew 5:48).

That is a daunting standard, and certainly one, that without clear perspective, could induce perpetual feelings of inadequacy.

In an October 1976 conference address entitled, “Notwithstanding My Weakness,” Elder Neal A. Maxwell explains:

Now may I speak, not to the slackers in the Kingdom, but to those who carry their own load and more; not to those lulled into false security, but to those buffeted by false insecurity, who, though laboring devotedly in the Kingdom, have recurring feelings of falling forever short.

Earlier disciples who heard Jesus preach some exacting doctrines were also anxious and said, “Who then can be saved?” (Mark 10:26.)

The first thing to be said of this feeling of inadequacy is that it is normal. There is no way the Church can honestly describe where we must yet go and what we must yet do without creating a sense of immense distance.

This distance is certainly not lost on the Lord, which is why the bulk of his teachings provide us with further perspective.

Basic gospel doctrine teaches us that we are immortal beings, and that our time on earth is meant to be a time of testing, and training.  Opposition is a necessary part of that training, which opposition includes challenges, temptations, and weakness.

We further understand that our God is a God of mercy, who has graven us upon His very palms (see 1 Nephi 21:16), that life’s challenges are not meant merely as punishment, but rather, function as essential tools to lead us to him, and shape us into glorious, perfect beings.  In the scriptures, He reminds us, “I give unto men weakness that they may be humble” (Ether 12:27), that in our weakness, “[we shall] be made strong” (Ether 12:37), indeed that the “very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after [us]…that all these things shall give [us] experience, and shall be for [our] good” (D&C 122:7). 

Have you ever seen those Iron Chef-style cooking shows, where the contestants are given an unknown ingredient, or combination of ingredients, and they have limited amount of time to create something spectacular to wow the often harsh and discerning judges?  I’m always amazed by what the top chefs are able to create under such pressure, especially given what seems, to me, like such an impossible combination of ingredients.  Perhaps even more impressive than their ability to concoct incredible dishes, is their flexibility.  So often, you watch and something goes wrong – something doesn’t set, or they drop a pan, or something burns, and you figure they’re out.  They’ve failed.  They won’t be able to recover from that.  Yet, the best chefs always adapt, and despite the opposition, still manage to create something wonderful.

I think the Lord is like that master chef when it comes to His involvement in our lives and habits.  It doesn’t matter what He’s given, He knows what to do with it.  Sometimes – MANY times – things go wrong; through our agency, or that of others, things don’t turn out like we’d planned, we make mistakes, or sometimes we even have to start over.  But like top chefs, the Lord doesn’t throw everything out and walk away, but, rather, He adapts, showing us, maybe, what to add and what to take away, what requires more, or less cooking time, etc. to the recipe just right. 

In that sense, I would submit that there is NO ingredient - no habit, no weakness, or no addiction that can truly keep us from progressing. There is nothing the Lord cannot use for our gain, to shape us and mold us, with one caveat:  we have to keep trying. 

The Lie: Trying Isn’t Enough 

And this is where the LIE comes in.

I may regret this, but I’m going to do something I swore I’d never do:  I’m going to reference Star Wars in a sacrament meeting talk.

You may remember the scene in the Empire Strikes Back, where Luke has met with Yoda to try and learn how to use the force, and it’s really hard.  At one point he’s trying to raise his sunken ship out of the swamp, but he isn’t having much luck.  He’s getting is frustrated, Yoda is frustrated.  Yoda gives Luke some sage advice, to which Luke responds, “Alright, I’ll give it a try.”  Yoda rather abruptly and sternly corrects him, saying, “No.  Try not. Do. Or do not.  There is no try.”

Now, I hate to say it, but Master Yoda got it wrong.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Yoda.  He’s just not very good at 2 Truths and a Lie, because the lie is that trying isn’t enough:  there is no try.

Satan would have us mistakenly believe that we are not good enough until we have become – until we have reached the goal, kicked the habit, or what have you.

But this is contrary to the nature of God, at least the God I know.

Remember, he reminds us, “I will be merciful unto your weakness” (D&C 38:14).  He requires us to forgive “…until 70 times 7” (D&C 98:40) because that’s what He would do, and that’s what He does do for us.  And He tells us repeatedly in the scriptures to keep going, to endure, to press forward (see 2 Nephi 31:20), to “continue as [we] commenced” (D&C 9:5), to remember, to “be not weary” (D&C 64:33).   To try.

I had an experience last week that reminded me of this.  In my home, I often struggle being patient with my children.  We’d had a few difficult days at home and one morning, as I was trying to get everyone out the door amid meltdowns and bickering, I was losing it.  Frustrated, I texted Aaron, “Dealing with the chaos day after day is exhausting!” 

I sent the text and I looked down at it, and immediately had the thought, “Heavenly Father never feels exhausted with you.”  That revelation stopped me in my tracks.  In that moment, I thought about how often I’ve repeated the same mistakes, how often I’ve gone to the Lord (or failed to go to Him) having a meltdown, and how child-like I was in my relationship with Him.  

It was a powerful teaching moment between me and Lord because, first of all, it was a wonderful, gentle reminder that perhaps I could be a little more patient with my kids.  But it was also confirmation of the very point I’m trying to make:  that with all of us God is infinitely patient; infinitely merciful.  He’s a God of chances.  He is a God of trying, because it is in the trying that we become. 

Truth #2: Heavenly Father is a God of Love

This experience also reminded me of one more lesson, which is my final truth in “Two Truths and a Lie”: That Heavenly Father is a God of love and He uses that love to motivate us.

In the past, I may have walked away from that experience the same as I would have in approaching this topic – with guilt, or shame, feeling like a failure.  But I didn’t.  I left feeling hope.

I recognized that although I feel like I struggle daily with being patient, I am trying.  And so are my kids.  We mess up a lot, but we do a lot of things right.  We haven’t given up and as long as we continue to try, we are right where the Lord wants us to be.

For me, that knowledge is incredibly motivating. 

Look How Far You’ve Come!

Let me share one final story.

I do a bit of running.  About a year and a half ago, I ran a marathon.  When I started training, the furthest I’d run was 6 miles, and at that particular time I could only do about 3.  But I had about 9 months to train, and it was on my bucket list, so I decided to go for it.

Training was challenging.  It required a great deal of time, pushing through occasional soreness, and even some injury. But it was also exciting, particularly when my weekly runs started to extend beyond my 6-mile record.  Every time I’d complete a new, longer distance, I had a ritual of congratulating myself, telling myself, sometimes out loud, “This is further than I’ve ever run before.”

The day I ran 10 miles for the first time, I had an interesting, and somewhat unexpected experience.  I was actually in Layton that day, visiting my in-laws for the holidays.  It was about this time of year, and it was cold and snowy.  Coming from balmy San Diego, I did NOT want to run that day, but I needed to get the miles in, so I did. 

About 2/3 of the way through my run, I was feeling really good and I started thinking about how amazing it was that I was really doing it – I was out in the cold, running TEN miles.  Double digits.  I remember thinking about how I’d started out only able to run 3 miles, and in my mind said, “Wow!  Look how far I’ve come!”

In that moment, God spoke to my heart in my own words.  In a split second, I thought about my life, and I thought about my challenges and my testimony, and how they had changed me, and it was as if He was saying to me, “Wow! Look how far you’ve come!  You’re doing it.  I’m so proud of you.  Keep going.”

As I reflected on that experience, I realized that God didn’t only want to tell me where I needed to improve, but that sometimes, he wanted to show me what I was doing right.

Since that time, I have asked Him many times, “Heavenly Father, please help me to see in myself what you see in me.  Please help me to know what I’m doing that pleases you.  Please show me what I am doing right.”  And He has because He loves me, and that love keeps me trusting and trying.

You Are Enough

Brothers and sisters, let me close with what I know to be true:  God has a plan for us, and that although that plan includes challenges and weaknesses, we need not despair.  Our Heavenly Father loves us, and can help us feel of that love, even as we try and fail, and try and fail again.

If you are not there, I urge you not to give up.  Don’t let your discouragement lull you into complacency and distance you from your Heavenly Father.  Keep pressing forward, even if you’re only taking baby steps, trusting that with each step, God is molding you into who He wants you to be – and that, for Him, is enough.  You are enough.

I love Him.  I know He loves me.  I am grateful for that love because it is through that love that He is shaping me into the best version of myself I can be.  I like the person I am today so much better than who I was because of my challenges - because those struggles have taught me to know Him, and trust in Him in ways I never had before.  I’m at that 10-mile mark in my life, knowing even though I have a long way to run, I have run farther than I ever have before because of Him, and I trust that He will continue to help me until I cross the finish line, as I know He will for all of us.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

On Addiction (to Donuts and Other Things)

Remarks I gave in a Sacrament meeting (worship service) on November 29, 2015:

Back in early September I was asked to spend a few minutes talking about addiction, specifically as it relate to the "vices of the flesh."  That topic has been rolling around in my head ever since then, particularly as it relates to the troubles associated with pornography.  And I've had some inklings where to go with these remarks today, but honestly I've wrestled and wrestled with this.  Addiction just is not a warm and cuddly subject.  And particularly as it relates to pornography, drugs, and other harmful things, it can be a stigmatizing one.  But as I've wrestled with this subject, I have been drawn back again and again toward sharing some personal experiences that perhaps may be helpful to some who face challenges associated with addiction -- whatever form that may take.  I'm honestly a little nervous about this.  For one, I don't know you very well.  And I don’t want to overshare.  But also, what I'm about to talk about is not something in the past tense -- it's something I still struggle with, and that I will probably deal with the rest of my life.

So I will try to be as delicate as possible, but I also want to be direct.  I think it will probably be ok. 

The Struggle is Real

Brothers and Sisters, I really, really struggle with sugar.  I have dealt with this a long time now -- probably all of my adult life.  I don't think it's necessary to get into all the details, but I can tell you that when I start eating sugary treats, it's very hard for me to not have a lot of them.  And I mean a lot.  So much that I usually end up feeling pretty miserable.  And because it tastes so good, I have a rather dysfunctional emotional connection with sugar such that, even though it usually leaves me feeling miserable, I feel a strong pull to reach for it (a lot of it), particularly in times of high stress, anxiety, and low self-esteem.

[Now, before I proceed any further I need to make this disclaimer:  I don't want anyone to misunderstand me and come away from this meeting thinking or saying -- "Well, Brother Clark thinks we shouldn't eat chocolate chip cookies.  Or Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Or the cinnamon rolls that will be served at the Neighborhood Christmas Party this Friday."  I want to be clear that whatever I may say today, I'm not saying that.  In talking about my own sugar addiction, and some of the insights I've learned in dealing with this over the years, I am not trying to give any counsel one way or another on what you personally should eat or not eat.  We all struggle with different things.  I happen to struggle with sugar.  You may well not.  In fact, I hope you don't because I want you to be able to have a cinnamon roll or two this Friday.

So, with that disclaimer, let me share a few insights I've learned in my years of dealing with a sugar addiction.  And you listen, see if there might not be some application to some of the things you, or your friends and loved ones may struggle with.

Small Mistakes Lead to Big Ones; Small Victories Lead to Big Ones

First, brothers and sisters, it has been my experience that small mistakes with sugar tend to lead to big ones; by contrast, small victories enable big ones.  What I mean by this is that, except in rare instances of self-control, I cannot seem to indulge in a donut in the morning or a cookie in the afternoon and not have it throw me off for the rest of the day (often even the rest of the week). 

Let me describe how that usually happens: In a day that's otherwise going well, I decide that just one donut or one cookie should be harmless (besides, I probably worked out in the morning, and I probably had oatmeal for breakfast -- so I should be good).  So I eat the donut or cookie, and it tastes good.  It triggers the pleasure center in my brain, and my brain sends me the message -- You want more of this.  And so usually with very little thought, I will reach for another.  Besides, I've already had one, and there's not much difference between one and two.    And then there's not much difference between two and three, and three and four, and so on for however far it goes until the treats run out or they don't taste good anymore. 

But, say, by the time I'm at four or five cookies, it's no longer just a small indulgence.  And at that point, other thoughts and feelings start to work their way in: feelings of guilt and shame.  Now, this is the point where one might logically expect to stop -- that these feelings of guilt or shame would be the warning or trigger to tell me "enough is enough." 

But that's not usually how it works for me.  As I mentioned a few moments ago, I've got a kind of emotional attachment to sugar.  And because of that, those feelings of guilt and shame paradoxically make me want to eat more sugar -- ironically now to try to deal with the shame and guilt that came from indulging in the first place.  It's a downward spiral that very often leaves me feeling trapped -- trapped and feeling like, at least in the short term, the best answer might just be one or two more cookies. 

By contrast, if I pass up that cookie or donut early the day, there's an effect, too.  It's not quite as pronounced, or as quickly evident, but it is there.  It's something like a small boost of self-confidence, that brings with it subtle good feelings.  And I find that the early victory makes it just a little bit easier to resist what temptations may come later in the day.  And a whole day's good efforts bring with it the self-confidence and good feelings (that to me are most noticeable in the early morning the next day) that make it all the easier to make the same courageous choices the next day, and so on.   

That is why, at least for me, it is so important that I avoid that otherwise seemingly innocuous cookie or donut.

C.S. Lewis eloquently expressed the point as follows:

"Good and evil both increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of. An apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger today is the loss of a ridge or a bridgehead from which the enemy may launch an attack otherwise impossible."

- Mere Christianity, p. 117

More practically expressed, I found the same point expressed a few months ago in an ad for a brand of nicotine gum in a 7-11: "Every victory counts."

Every victory does count.

I Can't Have it in the House

The second insight is correlated to the first: if I bring sugary treats into the house, I will eat them. 

Over the years, I have come to realize a few less than ideal truths about myself.  One of them is that, almost without exception, if I have sugary treats in the house, I will eat them.  I cannot tell you how many times I have come across a sale for a particular treat, and especially if I've been doing well, I have deluded myself into thinking that I'll be ok if I just buy the treat and put it away (in the cupboard or pantry) until the right time.

But again, that just doesn't seem to be how things work with me.  Almost inevitably, no matter how on point my eating and exercise have been, within a day or two, my resolve breaks down, and I've opened and eaten the treat that I was saving for a "special occasion."  Something about having the temptation so close and accessible seems to leave me especially vulnerable at the first sign of weakness (and it's interesting just how much the treat will prey on my thoughts throughout the day if I know it's somewhere in the house).

On this point, there seems to be support in the scriptural account of Joseph and Potiphar's wife.  As most of you know, Joseph had been betrayed by his brothers and sold into slavery in Egypt.  Potiphar was an officer of the Pharaoh, and took on Joseph as one of his servants.  Potiphar was so impressed with Joseph that he made Joseph the overseer of his house.

Potiphar's wife also took a particular interest in Joseph -- she propositioned Joseph to break the law of chastity with her.  Joseph refused.  But the scriptures say that Potiphar's wife persisted "day by day" in her request [Gen. 39:10].  One day, when Joseph was in Potiphar's house while Potiphar wasn't there, Potiphar's wife came to Joseph and grabbed his garment, and repeated her demand.

The scriptures note that Joseph, in response, "left his garment in her hand, and fled, and got him out." [Gen. 39:12].

Sometimes, brothers and sister, just saying "No, thank you" isn't enough.  Sometimes, like Joseph, the only way I know that I can safely avoid temptation is to run from it or to get away from it -- literally or figuratively.  To keep it close by eventually means to give in to it.

Addiction Blocks the Holy Ghost

The third insight, brothers and sisters, is that I have found that one of the most detrimental effects of addiction is that it blocks the whisperings of the Holy Ghost.

In my case, no one would dispute that eating sugary treats -- particularly in the quantities that I'm inclined to consume them -- is physically unhealthy.  It leads to weight gain, yes, but also just leaves me feeling so sluggish and crummy. And it saps me of any desire to be productive. In fact, I usually find I just want to crawl into bed and hide.

What I've learned in conjunction with this, though, is that when I eat too many treats, I make it so difficult to feel the whisperings of the Holy Ghost.  In fact, often I've eaten so much that I can't feel much of anything -- except a kind of numbness and physical discomfort. 

Over the years it's become clear to me that this -- not the physical effects (though the two are connected) -- is the most profound tragedy of my indiscretions.  Because when I can't feel the Holy Ghost, the world feels so much darker.  And as vulnerable as my addiction leaves me, it makes it so much harder for God to reach me (or at least to be able to feel that He is reaching out to me) -- to feel those whisperings of love, comfort, hope, and encouragement that He sends.  I end up feeling so alone.  But it's not because He has abandoned me; it's because I've put myself in a place where I can't feel him.

I have found, brothers and sisters, that the commands given by the Lord, particularly with respect to what we do with our bodies and physical appetites -- whether through the Word of Wisdom or the Law of Chastity -- are far more than simply to do items on a "lengthy gospel checklist" (David A. Bednar, October 2010, "Receive the Holy Ghost").  No, they seem to be primarily designed to help us feel and keep the companionship of the Holy Ghost -- with which all good things seem possible.

There is Danger in Delay

A fourth insight, brothers and sisters, concerns the subtle danger of procrastination. 

For my part, when I am in the throes of regularly eating too much sugar -- throes that can stretch on for weeks or months at a time -- part of the reason that I stay stuck so long is that I only ever tend to feel a day away from making needed change. 

What this means is that each day I find a way to rationalize putting off good eating habits today with the alluring thought that I will make the needed improvements "tomorrow."  "Tomorrow" -- when I will somehow be stronger, circumstances will surely be more favorable, or the treats will be out of the house (because I plan to eat them all today).  There are any number of reasons why "tomorrow" seems so alluring.  Which is why I have sometimes been stuck for weeks or months at a time: I always figure I can (and will) change "tomorrow."

The fallacy in my thinking, of course, is to fail to appreciate that once I get to "tomorrow" it will be "today."  And once I get there, the difficulties and temptations are almost never any different than they are right now (or than they were yesterday, or last week, or last month when I similarly chose to delay) -- except in this: by choosing indulgence today, I have further weakened my resolve and self-confidence to be able to have the strength to choose differently tomorrow.

And beyond choosing to remain stuck "just for today," I further perpetuate the unhappiness I described just a few moments ago.  

Given my experience, it seems appropriate that President Kimball once observed “One of the most serious human defects in all ages is procrastination.”  He defined it as “an unwillingness to accept personal responsibility now” (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball [1982], 48; emphasis in original).

President Eyring also shared this powerful insight that rings true to me:

"The truth is that today is always a better day to repent than any tomorrow. First, sin has its debilitating effects on us. The very faith we need to repent is weakened by delay. The choice to continue in sin diminishes our faith and lessens our right to claim the Holy Ghost as our companion and comforter.  And second, even should we be forgiven at some later time, the Lord cannot restore the good effects our repentance today might have had on those we love and are to serve."  ("Do Not Delay," October 1999).

President Uchtdorf expressed much the same thought a bit more cheerfully: "The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago.  The second best time is now." (Ensign, "The Best Time to Plant a Tree," January 2014).

Let me share with you, too, my own testimony that "today" (or "now" as President Kimball put it) will always be better than "tomorrow."  I don’t know what that might mean for you and the challenges you face.  But I know that God does, and I suspect you do, too.  It may mean fasting and earnest prayer.  It may also mean reaching out to the bishop.  Today.  Or finally opening up about your struggles with a spouse, a trusted friend, or a loved one.  It may mean finally calling to make an appointment with a professional counselor (and I will readily admit to you that I have seen a counselor about my sugar addiction -- it has been so helpful!).  I can promise you that, hard as it may be, in making the courageous choice to begin today, you plant seeds of happiness and joy that will sprout, grow, and bear fruit in the days and weeks that follow -- fruit that will not be possible to harvest then in you do not make the choice to plant those seeds today.  And also please remember, as hard as it may make things today, our good choices increase at compound interest.  That means that making good choices today will likely make it easier for you to be able to make good choices tomorrow.

He is Cheering For You

For my final thought, I want to begin with a story, the image of which resonates deeply with me:

A few years ago good friend of mine once told of her husband – an accomplished pianist -- coming home from a rehearsal for a Christmas concert and noting that his ears hurt from some of the performances he had to endure.  She then mentioned a girl who played a violin solo for one of the pieces (which apparently was one of the sources of pain) and how, during the performance, my friend watched the girl’s father – who is also a very accomplished musician – as he watched the girl and hung on her every note.  My friend could tell the father was rooting for his daughter’s success, watching intently as the girl played the hard parts, and hoping she’d hit the notes just right in those points.  She then observed that God watches over us in much the same way, with the same intensity, rooting for us and cheering us on, and just as cognizant of where the “hard parts” are in our lives as we face them.

Brothers and sisters, there is a Savior, Jesus Christ.  He has all power.  He knows us perfectly.  He also loves us perfectly.  And his Atonement has made possible our salvation and happiness.  He also knows perfectly how to succor us -- how to help us get unstuck sometimes, and how to avoid getting stuck in the first place. 

I can also testify of His infinite patience.

I cannot tell you how many times I have pled with God for help that day to overcome my difficulties with sugar, only to sometime later in the day effectively say, "Actually, never mind.  I really want a cookie."  And then by day’s end find myself kneeling before Him once more, feeling miserable, and trying to figure out what on earth to say to Him now.

Now, there are consequences for sin.  But in such humiliating moments, I have never felt from Him a smug "I told you so" or a frustrated "How many times are we going to go through this Aaron?" or a biting "Why should I help you -- clearly you think you know better?" -- reactions that I might be inclined toward if my child approached me in similar circumstances.

I have sensed a willingness to help me try again, and as Michelle mentioned last week, an anxiousness to help me make the best of whatever circumstances I bring to Him. 

And, undeserved as it may be, I at times sensed His pleasure, no matter how many times I have fallen down, when I try, once more, to turn to Him in earnestness.

Let me conclude with this extended thought from Elder Allen D. Haynie in his talk in this most recent conference:

Although avoidance of sin is the preferred pattern in life, as far as the efficacy of the Atonement of Jesus Christ is concerned, it matters not what sins we have committed or how deep we have sunk into that proverbial pit. It matters not that we are ashamed or embarrassed because of the sins that, as the prophet Nephi said, “so easily beset” us. It matters not that once upon a time we traded our birthright for a mess of pottage.

What does matter is that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, suffered “pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind” so “that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people.” What does matter is that He was willing to condescend, to come to this earth and descend “below all things” and suffer “more powerful contradictions than any man” ever could. What does matter is that Christ is pleading our case before the Father, “saying: Father, behold the sufferings and death of him who did no sin, in whom thou wast well pleased; … wherefore, Father, spare these my brethren that believe on my name, that they may come unto me and have everlasting life.” That is what really matters and what should give all of us renewed hope and a determination to try one more time, because He has not forgotten us.

I testify that the Savior will never turn away from us when we humbly seek Him in order to repent; will never consider us to be a lost cause; will never say, “Oh no, not you again”; will never reject us because of a failure to understand how hard it is to avoid sin. He understands it all perfectly, including the sense of sorrow, shame, and frustration that is the inevitable consequence of sin.

Brothers and sisters, if you feel discouraged or wonder if you can ever get out of the spiritual hole that you have dug, please remember who stands “betwixt [us] and justice,” who is “filled with compassion towards the children of men,” and who has taken upon Himself our iniquities and transgressions and “satisfied the demands of justice.” In other words, as Nephi did in his moment of self-doubt, simply remember “in whom [you] have trusted,” even Jesus Christ, and then repent and experience yet again “a perfect brightness of hope."  

“Remember in Whom We Have Trusted,” October 2015 (internal citations omitted).

 

Brothers and sisters -- there is hope.  I know that no matter how deep the hole we have dug ourselves into, we cannot sink too far beyond His reach.  And no matter how many times we've fallen into it, He stands watch with us.  And He always, always stands ready to help the moment we make any movement toward Him.

I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Fear Not

Remarks I gave recently in a Sacrament meeting (worship service) in May 2015:

When I was a boy, I grew up in a branch (small congregation) in Upstate New York.  One Sunday, a woman who had been in the branch and moved away had come back to visit.  Somehow she found herself as the first of two or three speakers on the Sacrament meeting program.  The woman proceeded to speak for two hours.  Back then, Sacrament meeting was the last meeting of the three hour block, and it was the only thing between me and lunch.

 

I am still trying to forgive her.

I say that because I am cognizant of the time, and the last thing I want to do is take up more of your time than I have to.  But there are some things I really want to share.

I want to talk for a few minutes about a story in the New Testament that has come to have great meaning to me.

Peter and Jesus Walk on Water

In this story, Jesus had just performed the miracle of feeding 5,000 men (not including the women and children) with five loaves of bread, and two fish.

Matthew 14:22-33

22 And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side [to the city of Bethsaida, according to Mark (6:45), while he sent the multitudes away].

23 And when [Jesus] had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, he was there alone.

24 But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary [Mark described the disciples as having spent the night “toiling in rowing” (Mark 6:48)].

25 And in the fourth watch of the night [meaning between 3 and 6 in the morning] Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea.

26 And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear.

27 But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.

28 And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.

29 And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus.

30 But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.

31 And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?

32 And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased.

33 Then they that were in the ship came and worshipped him, saying, Of a truth thou art the Son of God.

There are a few parts of this story that I want to look at with you, because I think they have application for us.

First, brothers and sisters, it doesn’t seem lost on any of us just how miraculous a situation this was: Jesus was actually walking on water.  And not only Jesus, but Peter.  Imperfect, impetuous Peter, was able to do so as well, at his asking and at the Savior’s invitation.

We can only speculate what prompted Peter to ask the Master if he could get out and join Him in the water, but we know that the Jesus at least assented to the suggestion by telling Peter, “Come.”  Peter then got out of his boat, in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, and seemingly amid darkness in the middle of the night, for however long it was, he actually walked on water toward the Savior.

We Get Out of the Boat, Too

At first blush, this doesn't necessarily sound like something we can relate to. I wonder, though, what might be comparable in our lives?  In what ways has God invited us to leave (or at least assented to our leaving) relative comfort to get out of our figurative boats and, seemingly amid impossible circumstances, start to do what, for all intents and purposes, should be impossible and walk toward Him?

For my part, I can think of young missionaries, who maybe never having been away from home, leave their family and friends behind for 18 months to 2 years to serve in some distant place among strangers, often having to learn a new language.

I think of young couples who decide to get married against all hope and probability (and sometimes without parental support).

I think of single members of the church who carry on hoping to get married, but have not had the opportunity.

I think of couples that decide to have children, as well as those who hold out in the desperate hope to have them.

I think of those who make the decision to join this church. 

 

And I think of the gay members of the church who are just trying to hang on and find their place here.

The truth, though, is that I can’t name or count the ways that each of us might have been prodded out of our comfort zone to do (or to keep doing) what seems to be impossible.  But I tend to think that, in one way or another, all of us have been in a position not too unlike Peter's.  We, each of us, have felt the promptings of the Holy Ghost to get out of our boats and move toward the Master, amid hardly less turbulent circumstances.  In fact, brothers and sisters, I don’t suspect that any of us would be here this morning if that were not true for us in some regard.

So with that thought, I want to share a few personal observations: 

(1) The Wind Was Contrary and the Boat Tossed with Waves

First, what is notable to me about Peter's story is that he didn't seem deterred by the weather when he first made the decision to get out of the boat.  The scripture notes that the "wind was contrary" and the ship was "tossed with waves" (Matthew 14:24) well before Peter got out of the boat and onto the water.  But that hadn't mattered initially, or at least it hadn't mattered enough to deter Peter from getting out of the boat to walk toward Jesus (and remember, Peter was the one who suggested it in the first place!).

No, it does not seem to have been until some point during his miraculous walk that Peter actually took note of his surroundings and shifted his focus away from the Master and toward the boisterous wind.  It was then that Peter began to sink.

Brothers and sisters, one of the lessons in this story for me is that it is not the presence or absence of storms in our lives that determines whether we sink or move toward Him.  No --whether we sink or move toward Him instead seems to depend entirely on where our focus is fixed: on Him or on the storms.

Now, to me this does not mean that we are to go about our days carrying on as if or pretending that there are no storms in our lives, that we are sailing calm seas, that the waves and wind aren't rocking the boat we just left behind, whipping at our faces, or maybe even soaking the hems of our pants or skirts.  That would be false and so desperately foolish.  We all of us, in one way or another, have been, are, or will soon be in the midst of storms and turbulent weather. And few things in the long run are less helpful to those truly looking for help and refuge from the storms of their own journey than for us to pretend we are walking on calm seas. 

But just as we should not pretend that our seas are always calm, neither should we be constantly fixated on the storms -- spending our energy complaining about them or comparing the size of the swells on our seas to what others seem to have to deal with.

The key, remember, is that we not allow the storms that each of us face to divert our focus from Him.

(2) When We Avert Our Gaze, He Seems to Get Fuzzier.

But if you are like me, or like Peter here, even when it seems like you are trying to do everything right to move toward the Savior, sometimes our attention gets diverted to focusing on our difficulties.  In fact, sometimes it feels like I can't help it.  The interesting thing for me, is that often when my focus gets turned that way, my difficulties become all I can see.  And the longer they hold my attention, the larger and larger they seem to me -- until I become afraid, and I start sinking.

I wonder if you have ever had a similar experience: In moments when you have felt the Holy Ghost, you might feel inspired to do something -- maybe something otherwise hard or courageous -- to move toward the Savior.  However, difficult that thing might be, you get out of the boat and begin moving toward Him.  In those times when our focus is on Him, when we can feel the protection and influence of the Holy Ghost, all good things feel possible.

But somewhere along the way, our attention gets diverted (much of life seems designed to try to divert our attention), and then we can't see Him as clearly anymore.  Suddenly, none of the good feelings that prompted us out of the boat seem to be there to sustain us, and all we can see is the difficulty of our situation. In those times, we may be tempted to think or even say aloud: What was I thinking?  Why did I get out of that boat?  I was safe there.  What am I doing here standing in the middle of the sea, in the dark, against boisterous winds and crashing waves? Why did He leave me?

But here's the thing evident to me in this story, brothers and sisters:  when Peter's attention shifted and he started to sink in those moments doubt, Jesus may have felt far away to Peter, but He wasn't.  Jesus wasn't any farther away than when Peter was looking directly toward Him and walking on the water.  In fact in my mind, I can even see Jesus perhaps quickening His pace when he saw Peter begin to falter so as to shorten the distance between them (to be able to catch him).

The same is true for us.

Listen to this quote from President Eyring in a recent conference:

"God is close to us and aware of us and never hides from His faithful children."  [October 2012,"Where is the Pavilion?"]

Note that President Eyring does not qualify that statement.  He does not say that "God is sometimes close to us" or that "God is close to us if we are good enough or keep enough of His commandments."  He is simply close to us.

President Eyring continued:

"God is never hidden, yet sometimes we are, covered by a pavilion of motivations that draw us away from God and make Him seem distant and inaccessible.  Our own desires, rather than a feeling of "Thy will be done," create a feeling of a pavilion blocking God." [October 2012, "Where is the Pavilion?"]

Brothers and sisters, truth is truth is truth.  We all know about the scientific method.  And the whole idea of reasoning in general is that truth is supposed to be evident to everyone, regardless of background or position.

But I have learned that where spiritual matters are concerned, what feels real to us (and what we can see) depends very much on where we stand, where we are facing, and on the condition of our hearts.

Think of this scripture now in the context of Peter (or any of us) out on that water:

Helaman 5:12

"And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall." (emphasis added).

(3) "Wherefore Didst Thou Doubt?"

Finally, brothers and sisters, I have wondered what, exactly, Peter might have been afraid of in those moments of doubt when he turned his focus. 

He did not seem to be afraid that Jesus had forgotten him.  And he did not seem to fear that Jesus did not care about him.

Maybe this is a bit of projection on my part, but when I read this story, I get the sense that Peter had somehow come to think that this walking on water thing was on him -- that his staying afloat (or perhaps better, the Savior's ability to help him stay afloat) depended on Peter's own talents and abilities, or on his own goodness and righteousness.  And in those moments of miracle and distraction, his circumstances quickly reminded him of his own inadequacies.  How could he possibly be enough?  He couldn't.  And he knew it.  Which perhaps is why he became frightened and began to sink.

In my own life, brothers and sisters, I have learned that focusing on my own weaknesses and shortcomings (as worthy and as helpful as that might sound for those geared toward self-improvement), is not much more helpful than focusing on the surrounding storms.  The fact is that either focus dims our view of the Savior.  And either focus can create a pavilion that distances us from understanding and feeling God's grace -- and this even as He remains just as close to us.

Again, I am not saying that we should pretend we do not have weaknesses or shortcomings.  In fact, whenever we move toward the Savior and begin to do otherwise impossible things, we seem to be promised that just about the first thing He will show us is our weakness.  But listen again to the Lord describe the context in which we are to view them (Ether 12:27):

And if men come unto me [Remember what the Lord told Peter -- "Come."] I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. (emphasis added)

Listen, too, to the Book of Mormon prophet Jacob describe a similar understanding (Jacob 4:6-7):

"Wherefore, we search the prophets, and we have many revelations and the spirit of prophecy; and having all these witnesses we obtain a hope, and our faith becometh unshaken, insomuch that we truly can command in the name of Jesus and the very trees obey us, or the mountains, or the waves of the sea.

"Nevertheless, the Lord God showeth us our weakness that we may know that it is by his grace, and his great condescensions unto the children of men, that we have power to do these things."

Our weaknesses, then, are not an indication that we should be sinking, or that we should not be out there on the water.  No.  He shows them to us to remind us of His grace -- that it is by His power (not ours) that we are sustained and doing impossible things.  That it is by His power that we can withstand the mighty storms of life.  He shows them to us, brothers and sisters, to point our thoughts ever more toward Him.

Be Not Afraid

Brothers and sisters, I believe in a God that loves us perfectly. 

I believe in a God who wants us to become like Him, which for better or worse means that we must learn to navigate storms.  And sometimes it seems to mean even getting out of the boat during those storms to move toward Him and do impossible things -- at least things that would not be possible if we were left to ourselves.

I don't know what storms you face in your life, but I believe in a God that does not want us to be afraid, and in whose care we need not fear anything.

But I also believe in a God that knows that sometimes you and I will still be afraid, that sometimes we can't seem to help fixating our attention on the boisterous winds. 

And I believe in a God that, when we are afraid, knows perfectly how to succor us, who watches with us on those nights when we can only see and feel the boisterous wind and waves. 

I believe in a God who watches with us even as those nights of seeming loneliness may stretch to years.  And I believe in a God who ironically may never be closer to us than during those times when we are tempted to accuse Him of abandoning us.

I also believe in a God that will never let us sink too far beyond His reach.  And I believe in a God whose very existence is dedicated to seeing each of us return to Him with our families.

I know He lives.  And I love Him.  I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.