Tender Mercies: Dealing With the Loss of a Loved One

September 25^th, 2012:

“The setting apart was very peaceful. I said good-bye to my great-grandparents for maybe the last time. I hope not, but they’re getting old. That was hard.”

(My great-grandpa and me)

These somber words from my journal were written the night before I left to serve a two-year mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I would guess a majority of the population has barely known their great-grandparents, if at all, but I was fortunate to coexist with mine all the way into my early adult years. My early memories are filled with my grandma cooking breakfast for me as I watched the early morning news with my grandpa before they took to me to school. I used to call my grandma the “grape” grandma because she always gave me grapes and well, I didn’t quite understand the concept of what a great-grandparent was. I vividly recall receiving a stern lecture from my grandpa after throwing a baseball through my mom’s window. Even now, I can feel his penetrating expression burn an everlasting hole in my conscience. It wasn’t anger, but it was genuine concern and worry for what was to become of the 12-year old boy sitting in front of him. My stepdad had just left, and my mom was struggling to figure out how to raise my sister and me on her own. My grandparents knew someone had to intervene and help us, and that’s exactly what they did. Along with many others, they essentially helped raise us. Years later when I was baptized and decided to serve a mission, my grandpa served as my escort through the Mesa temple for the first time. Even though his health was failing, he refused to take the elevator. He walked all the way up the grand staircase, right next to me, out of breath the whole way. That’s just who he was, and my grandma was much the same. Albeit blatantly stubborn sometimes, they taught pure and virtuous principles, which they backed up with the lives of integrity they lived. Their example and memory influence my life in meaningful ways to this day, as I’m sure they do for all of their four children, eighteen grandchildren, and fifty-two great-grandchildren. That night before I left, the possibility that I’d never see them again was a daunting reality I felt I’d soon be facing.

Once I was on my mission though, I didn’t think too much about not seeing them again. With every month that passed it became less and less likely that one of them would pass away while I was gone. By the beginning of 2014, a year and a half into my two year mission, I had chalked that journal entry up to me just being dramatic (which is a far more common happening than I care to admit). It was only reasonable to believe I’d be home in the fall and everything was going to be just fine. Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out exactly how I thought. They rarely do.  In early March I received word that my great grandpa was very ill. Although the doctor gave him a month or two more to live, he passed away on March 19^th, 2014, just six months before I came home. It was so much harder than I had anticipated and I know my head was bursting with emotions at the time, but for whatever reason my journal entries are scarce during this time period. I only wrote about it once on March 5^th, 2014:

”…on Monday I got some bad news. My great-grandpa is doing really bad right now. They’ve only given [him] 6-8 weeks to live. It’s weird. It obviously hasn’t been totally unexpected, he’s been sick for a long time. But I’m having kind of a rough time. Really having to try and dig deep on my testimonies of the Atonement and the Resurrection. I love him a lot, and he’s been such an amazing example my whole life. I will of course miss him, and it hurts that I may not get to see him again in this life. But that’s where the gospel comes in 😊”

Losing a loved one is so hard, even when it is at least somewhat expected due to their age or health. It’s unfathomable to me that people can lose those closest to them in tragic and unexpected ways. It feels impossible, yet it happens all the time. When tragedy occurs, it is difficult for me to say that it was “part of God’s plan” or that “God works in mysterious ways.” I believe those statements for the most part, but it never feels good enough to me. It can’t be that simple, and it sure doesn’t help those left behind feel any better. No, the grief and pain will most assuredly come, no matter what we believe in. We are on this earth for a reason, and a part of that reason is to learn from the trials and setbacks that are common in mortality. Life is meant to be hard sometimes, and God will not spare us from that pain because he knows what we can become if we endure our hardships faithfully. Usually there isn’t a clear-cut answer or reason that can be given to explain things, and that is extremely frustrating.

Knowing that God lets us suffer, it can be easy to feel that God is impersonal, ambivalent, or doesn’t even exist at all. I know I’ve felt that way before, but at the end of the day I know that God exists and that he loves us. I know that he has given us an amazing opportunity in mortality to learn and grow from our experiences, even from the ones that hurt us the most. He knew from the beginning that we would pass through hardships, and he knew that some of them would push us to our breaking points. He knew all of this, but he never intended for our pain and suffering to be permanent. From the beginning he set in motion a plan that would place his Son in between us and death. Because of Jesus Christ, all of us can hope to live with and cherish our loved ones again someday. He died and rose again in order to give every person that has ever lived the power to come forth in resurrection, never to experience physical death. Likewise, he took upon himself the sins of us all to give unto us the power of redemption, or the chance to be completely clean and free of guilt before him one day. The Atonement and the Resurrection of Jesus Christ give us hope for the future. I know that he lives and that he has power to make right everything that is wrong in our lives. I know that every injustice or painful experience we confront in our lives will be laid at his feet in a coming day. I know that we will be freed from the thorns of our flesh, and that because of Jesus Christ we may hope for a better world.

I also know that God is deeply personal, as is Jesus Christ, and that they know each of us individually. Knowing about the Atonement and Resurrection is essential to having faith, but when tragedy actually strikes, the fulfillment of their promised blessings can seem too distant in the future to provide any true solace. Heavenly Father and His Son know this, and I know they will provide us with small blessings to help carry us through our hard times right here and right now. We don’t have to wait until we get to heaven to feel the power of heaven in our lives. If we’ll look for it, we can find the evidence of God’s love and comfort all around us. He will always give us something to hold on to, something to remind us that we’re not alone. The Lord’s prophets have frequently referred to these small blessings as “tender mercies.” I witnessed a tender mercy when my grandpa passed away, and I hope that by sharing it I can help others to recognize similar tender mercies in their lives.

God’s help for me in my time of need began about two months before my grandpa died, on January 24^th, 2014. My companion Elder Melaerts and I were attempting to visit a referral we had in a small town a few miles outside of the city we were serving in. Neither of us had ever been to the town, so we were pretty excited to have an experience different from the norm and hopefully gain some new investigators. When we arrived, however, the woman we were looking for wasn’t available, so like any good set of missionaries we asked if there was anyone else who would be interested in our message. We were informed that a woman down the street had just been diagnosed with cancer and her family was having a hard time with it. Upon visiting the family, however, we learned fairly quickly that the term “just been diagnosed” was used rather liberally. The reality is I had never seen someone that close to death. We walked into a room full of people crying and in obvious pain, everyone of which looked at us with eyes that longed for some form of comfort. As we came further into the room, we saw a severely emaciated woman lying on the bed, with her head shaven and the most impossibly empty expression gliding across her face. The family quickly ushered us in and allowed us to give her a blessing. I was terrified when we went to place our hands on her head, but once my companion started to pronounce the blessing we felt peace come over us. He didn’t bless her that she would live, I distinctly remember that, but the words he spoke emanated hope. We knew whatever blessings he felt impressed to impart would most likely be fulfilled in the next life. After the blessing concluded, we shared a very short message about Jesus Christ, and the woman who was sick strained herself to softly whisper “thank you.” Her attempt to speak was as powerful and inspiring as it was painful and heartbreaking. The family thanked us also and we let ourselves out, leaving them in peace. The woman passed away the next day on January 25th.

(Elder Melaerts and me the day after)

I don’t think that either of us were really the same after that night. It had put everything we did in a different perspective, and the purpose behind our work felt much deeper and much more important than it had before. Unfortunately, that wasn’t our last experience with death together. In the next month I was confronted with more death than ever before in my life. Just a couple days later we met and taught a woman who had been diagnosed with what was most likely a terminal brain tumor. Also that week, I found out that one of our best friends in the ward also had a terminal illness, and then just a little bit later another member of the ward actually did pass away. We ended up being a part of the funeral for the latter and the sister missionaries even had to help dress the body. It was rather bizarre! We even came home one day and one of the dogs that hung out in front of the house was dead in the driveway. It really felt like we just couldn’t get away from death.

Running into so many encounters with the end of life must have had me thinking about what happens after death. I know it must have been heavily on my mind, because on February 28^th I thought more deeply about what we call the “plan of salvation” than I ever had before. On that particular morning we were riding a bus to the city of Puebla at five o’clock in the morning. It was too dark outside to see anything so I couldn’t read, and it was too early in the morning for the bus driver to put a movie on. I was literally left to my own thoughts. During this time of peace and quiet, I decided I would ponder and recite the entire plan of salvation in my head. Something very special happened that morning because in my mind I saw and felt God’s plan for us so strongly that I could not deny it. In my thoughts I journeyed through our premortal existence, the creation of the Earth, the fall of Adam and Eve, the Atonement of Jesus Christ, death, the spirit world, the resurrection, the final judgement, and the kingdoms of glory. It felt amazing, and my thought process and feelings towards the plan of salvation completely changed after that bus ride. It wasn’t just one of the lessons we taught anymore. It was real, and it was the most important reason I wanted to teach others about Jesus Christ.

(The second half of a plan of salvation drawing I used on my mission)

Later that day, our mission president sat us down in front of a painting in his living room in Puebla. He reminded us who we were and where we had come from, or rather that we are Heavenly Father’s children and we had come to Earth at this time as an important part of his plan. He quoted section 138 of the Doctrine and Covenants and bore testimony that we were spiritually much more than we could see right then. His words had a deep effect on me and I felt even stronger about the plan of salvation than I had that morning. So much so that when I returned home later that weekend I decided to dedicate my scripture study to section 138, the same one President Reeves had shared with us. Section 138 is a revelation received in 1918 by President Joseph F. Smith, the sixth president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and it deals extensively with what happens to our spirits after we die. I read the section, and I also studied the footnotes at the bottom of the pages as I read. One of the footnotes took me to Ezekiel chapter 37, a chapter I had never read before:

“1 The ^ahand of the Lord was upon me, and ^bcarried me out in the ^cspirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones,

2 And caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry.

3 And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones ^alive? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.

4 Again he said unto me, Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.

5 Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones; Behold, I will cause ^abreath to enter into you, and ye shall live:

6 And I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and ye shall live; and ye shall know that I am the Lord.

7 So I prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, ^abone to his bone.

8 And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above: but there was no breath in them.

9 Then said he unto me, Prophesy unto the ^awind, prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind, Thus saith the Lord God; Come from the four ^bwinds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.

10 So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the ^abreath came into them, and they lived, and stood up upon their feet, an exceeding great army.

11 ¶ Then he said unto me, Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel: behold, they say, Our bones are dried, and our hope is ^alost: we are cut off for our parts.

12 Therefore prophesy and say unto them, Thus saith the Lord God; Behold, O my people, I will open your ^agraves, and cause you to ^bcome up out of your graves, and ^cbring you into the ^dland of Israel.

13 And ye shall know that I am the Lord, when I have opened your graves, O my people, and brought you up out of your graves,

14 And shall put my ^aspirit in you, and ye shall live, and I shall place you in your own land: then shall ye know that I the Lord have spoken it, and performed it, saith the Lord.”

-Ezekiel 37:1-14

Jesus Christ gives all of us the power to live again. These verses struck me with power and authority, and I knew that the resurrection was real and that I could take comfort in that thought. According to my study journal, I found these verses on March 2^nd, 2014. On March 3^rd my mom emailed me and informed me that my great grandpa was sick. I was able to skype him and call him twice before he passed away, which helped, but losing him tore a piece out of me that’s never been replaced. My emotions are still so raw when I think about it, but because of my experiences with scriptures in the days leading up to it all, I know that I will see him again. I know that he will have a perfect body free of pain or illness and that, as Joseph Smith taught, we will enjoy the same sociality that we enjoyed here, only it will be infinitely more glorious and happy.

There are some things that I only believe and others that I know. I know that the resurrection is real. I know that because the Holy Ghost guided me through my experiences, my thoughts, and the scriptures to be ready for my Grandpa’s passing. It was a tender mercy from the Lord, and I will forever be grateful for it. Even after I found out about my grandpa the Spirit continued to bless me with knowledge of God’s plan of salvation. I’ll end with an excerpt from an email I sent on March 17^th, 2014, two days before my grandpa passed away:

“This week, my studies brought me to Ezekiel chapter 37. In this chapter the prophet Ezekiel is shown a vision concerning the resurrection of the dead. Ezekiel sees a valley full of dry bones, and the Lord asks him if the bones will live again. Ezekiel says yes and the Lord tells him to prophesy to the bones. As he does the bones come together, and it says that all the sinews and flesh returned to the bones. Finally the lord "breathes" life into the bodies so that may live again. Later in the book of Mormon Alma chapter 40 through 42, the prophet Alma testifies of and explains the resurrection even more. Later, in 1 Corinthians 15, the apostle Paul goes into great detail about the resurrection and how it will be. Many many years later, the prophet Joseph smith increased our understanding of the resurrection even more through the temples and ordinances performed there.

The prophets and apostles of old saw our day and rejoiced. We live in blessed times, when the priesthood and temple ordinances that our performed through it are in full effect here on the earth. The sacred ordinances performed in the temples are divine, and truly seal us as family members forever. When one has been sealed in the temple to their family, and they have been true to their covenants, death is sweet. They can rest assured that the very same priesthood power that created the universe and everything in it, will be binding them to their loved ones throughout all eternity.

I know that's true. I know you can know too. prayerfully read and study the scriptures I have shared today, then pray and ask God if these things are true. The spirit will testify to you with power through feelings of peace, surety, and warmth. I promise.

I love you all and hope you have a great week.

Love,

Elder Wilson”

(My great-grandma and great-grandpa)

In December 2017 we also lost my great-grandma. I know that they were reunited in love and glory, and I can't wait to see them again. I know that Jesus Christ is the savior of the world. I know that the temples of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints represent heaven on Earth and we can be close to our loved ones when we participate in the ordinances there. Because of Christ’s authority given to us through the Atonement that is used in the temples, we can live with our families forever, and any pain we feel here will not be permanent. 

May we all find peace and joy through Jesus Christ this holiday season. If you are struggling with the loss of a loved one, please know that God loves you and you don't need to belong to any church or be perfect to feel that love. If you turn to him, I promise that Heavenly Father will provide his tender mercies to help you through the pain. With Him, all things are possible. You can and will overcome your grief with Jesus Christ by your side.

Merry Christmas!

 

(The Mesa, Arizona temple at Christmas time)

Jocelyn's Miracle

Woken by the relentless hum of cicadas in the nearby palo verde, Jocelyn forced herself to open her eyes. Her head throbbed as if her heart had somehow relocated itself inside her skull, and she almost passed back out as the nauseating stench of hydrochloric acid entered her nasal passages.

She was lying in a pool of her own vomit.

She managed to pull herself up enough to escape the vile substance but collapsed in a messy heap just a yard or so away. She tentatively reached her hand up to touch the crown of her head, which seemed to be the source of the heart-like pounding. With a sickening squish she pressed her middle and index finger into the mangled mess of blood, brown hair, and scalp.

She had split her head wide open.

Surveying the area directly in front of her, she tried to make sense of what had happened. She recognized where she was almost immediately; she was in the drainage ditch between her neighborhood and the US 60 highway. It was her favorite spot to come and skateboard.

I must have hit my head skating! Jocelyn thought. Painfully she twisted her head around, and sure enough, she saw her Plan B skateboard lying about twenty feet away from her.

Ugh, she thought, you’ve done it this time Jo. Mom is going to kill you.

Her mom’s blonde hair and blue eyes flashed into her mind, anger and disappointment evident in her expression. When Jocelyn’s mother saw what had happened she would most assuredly yell something along the lines of, “Look what you’ve done! Do you know how much these medical bills are going to cost me? This wouldn’t have happened if you just came to church with us on Sundays!”

Lately Jocelyn’s mother had woven religion into every conversation they had, and she was getting sick of it. Jo loved church as a kid, but since the divorce three years ago everything had changed. A place that had once been a place of refuge and comfort had become nothing more than a glorified prison every Sunday. Sermons that were meant to encourage and uplift only reminded Jocelyn of how much her own family fell short.

She definitely didn’t want to deal with her mother right now, but even more she didn’t want to sit in the heat until she either cooked to death or bled out, so she forced herself to her feet. She would walk right up to her mother and tell her what happened, no mat-

Crack!

Jocelyn screamed in pain as she felt her leg snap, and the jagged remains of her fibula tear through her flesh. Her leg was horribly broken, and for the first time during the ordeal Jocelyn felt fearful. She was alone, her head was bleeding profusely, and it was more than 115 degrees outside. Without any water or medical attention, it was a very real possibility that she wouldn’t last more than an hour or two before she passed out again. Just this morning she had seen on the news that a hiker had died from heat exhaustion on Camelback mountain. She did not want that to be her.

Jocelyn kicked herself as she contemplated her predicament. Why didn’t you bring your phone? What are you going to do?

She tried to yell for help, but was too far for anybody to hear her, especially with the deafening sound of freeway traffic coming from just behind her. Darkness enveloped her mind in fear, and Jocelyn felt totally alone.

At the peak of this abysmal darkness, a strange memory flooded Jocelyn’s thoughts. It was a story she had been told as a young girl at church. The story spoke of a young man stranded in the desert. After hours of being stuck in the middle of nowhere, an old man had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and taken him to safety at the nearest hospital. When the young man turned to thank his rescuer, however, no one was there. In fact, no one in the hospital had even seen anybody enter with the young man. It had been an angel or something like that, a complete miracle.

Gee, I could sure use a miracle like that right now, Jo thought to herself.

She quietly bowed her head to pray, “Dear Heavenly Father,” she was surprised at how easily the words came to her, she hadn’t prayed in years. “I know I probably don’t deserve this right now, but I’m hurtin’ pretty bad. Can you please send me an angel? I promise I’ll be better. Maybe I’ll even come back to church.”

A very strong maybe, she thought.

Even though pain still seared through her shattered leg and her bloodied scalp, peace rolled over Jocelyn. It was the same type of peace she had felt as a child when she sang at church. It was a peace she knew came from God, and she believed deep in heart that she would be okay that day. She smiled, closed her eyes, and waited for her angel to arrive.

She didn’t know what time it was when she woke up, but judging by the position of the sun she knew the day was drawing to a close. Her head had stopped pounding, but her leg hurt worse than it had when she’d fallen asleep. She could taste blood in the back of her mouth, and her lips had started to crack from the lack of moisture. She needed water, and she needed it fast.

Are you kidding me? She thought miserably, Some miracle, I’ve been laying here for hours. I guess I’ll have to be my own angel today.

Slightly frustrated at God for not sending an angel, but more frustrated at herself for believing such nonsense, Jocelyn agonizingly pulled herself into a sitting position. She would have to crawl her way out of the drainage ditch. It was a seemingly easy task, but with the impairment of her injuries, she may as well have been climbing Mt. Everest.

She had no choice.

Using only her arm strength, Jocelyn painstakingly hauled herself onto her stomach and began the slow climb up the steep incline. Putting both arms high above her head, she dragged the rest of her body up the pavement. Even though her limp left leg was nothing more than dead weight, Jocelyn was making progress. After about ten minutes she had made her way up about three fourths of the embankment. In just a few minutes she would be at the top, and she would able to crawl herself to the safety of her neighborhood from there.

“You see that God?” She yelled with a sense of pride. “I don’t even need your stupid miracle!”

Drip.

Jocelyn felt the drop of rain run down her cheek, the unexpected moisture bringing refreshment to her parched skin. She looked up and saw that dark black storm clouds were moving in from the east. She wasn’t surprised, all Arizonans were familiar with the mid-summer monsoons that showered the valley most evenings for two to three weeks every year. No, it wasn’t a surprise, but the timing of this particular storm couldn’t have been worse.

A few minutes later when the storm hit in full force, Jocelyn couldn’t tell which was louder; the booming sound of lighting cracking in the distance, or the thunderous patter of rain as came down in sheets all around. Her face stung with pain as powerful gusts of wind turned raindrops into pricking needles against her skin.

Now you’ve done it. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

She clumsily reached out to pull herself up, but a rogue gust of wind caught her under the arm and knocked her slightly off balance. Slapping her hand against the pavement, Jocelyn attempted to find her grip, but the water-slicked incline yielded no such mercy. Her face twisted itself in horror as she slid swiftly down the embankment, hitting the ground with a thud.

Lying on her side at the bottom of the drainage ditch, Jocelyn watched as the water around rose slowly. The water was coming down so heavily the ditch was beginning to flood. Jocelyn couldn’t believe that after everything she had been through that day, she was going to drown in a stupid ditch not even half a mile away from her house. She couldn’t believe that God hadn’t sent her a miracle. She had felt so sure. She had felt so much peace. Was he really just going to let her die, broken and alone at the bottom of that ditch?

At that moment Jocelyn remembered another church lesson from her youth, only this one had been read to her from the Bible. It was a story about a man named Job or something strange like that. Job had lost everything meaningful in his life, including his children, his money, and even his hair. Job had no reason to thank God, and he definitely didn’t see any miracles like the one the man stranded in the desert had seen, yet at the end of the story he still praised God.

As much as this sucks, she thought, its still not as bad as Job’s situation. I still have my family who loves me. At least, I did…

For the first time in many years, Jocelyn began to cry. Tears flowed freely down her face as she remembered the awful way she had treated her mother. When Jocelyn’s dad had left with another woman, she had blamed her mother. Jo resented her mom for everything that had happened, and she made she sure to let her know with every possible opportunity.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, her tears now almost instantly mixing with the rising rain water.

Jocelyn remembered the times her mother had screamed at her, was emotionally distant, or shamed her for not going to church as often as she’d like. She no longer saw the angry, raging tyrant she had made her mom out to be in recent years. She saw instead a woman doing her best to raise decent children, while simultaneously dealing with incredible heartbreak. She saw a woman who should have been able to look to her eldest daughter as a source of comfort that was instead emotionally berated every time she tried to reach out.

“Mom, I’m sorry!” She screamed, nearly loud enough to rival the sound of pounding rain and crackling thunder.

Struggling to keep her head above water, one last image was impressed upon her mind. It was a picture that her mom set near the Christmas tree every December, one that Jocelyn had never paid much attention to. Now however, the picture had such an impact on her mind that she could not think of anything else. It was a baby. Jocelyn knew this baby was important for some reason, but she couldn’t remember why exactly. As the she stared at the baby, lying in the manger, the baby seemed to stare back at her. His eyes were penetrating, and they conveyed a message more powerful than could have been spoken by the most eloquent adult. She knew that everything was okay, whether or not she made it out of that ditch alive. Life was hard sometimes, and people made lots of mistakes, but those mistakes didn’t define them. Somehow, this little child would take care of all the unfairness life could dish out. Somehow, he would make it all alright in the end.

“I love you mom. I really do.” Jocelyn closed her eyes and let herself fall limp in the water.

She was barely coherent when the rescue team pulled her out of the ditch. Passing in and out of consciousness, Jo saw fragments of the world around her. It all happened so fast. She was taken in an ambulance to a nearby hospital. She could hear bits and pieces of the conversation around her, and it sounded like she was going to be okay. A doctor came in to tell her she was lucky to be alive. Apparently, a young family near the ditch had been taking pictures of the storm from their backyard when they saw Jocelyn crawl out of the ditch and fall back in when the rain started.

Huh, that is pretty lucky I guess, she thought, not exactly the miracle I was looking for God, but I’ll take it.

She smiled softly and leaned her head back against the pillow. She opened them a few minutes later when the hospital door room burst open, and her mom came rushing in. Jocelyn braced herself for the inevitable lecture but was surprised when her mom just hugged her. Neither one said a word for a long time. They just held each other.

Jocelyn’s physical healing would take months, but the more important healing between mother and daughter had already begun. She couldn’t help but picture the manger-bound child, his penetrating eyes seeming to speak to her once more.

Everything was going to be okay.

Doubting the Obvious

Did you ever hear the story of the man who was stranded at sea? He prayed fervently for the Lord to save him, but each time a boat came by to rescue him, he would say "No thanks, I am waiting on the Lord." Eventually the man drowned and went to Heaven. When he arrived he angrily asked God why he hadn't saved him, to which God replied "I sent you three boats!"

Occasionally, we can allow ourselves to become so focused on what we think God should give us or show us, that we completely miss what he really wants for us. I had an experience like that recently, and it took me awhile to snap out of it. I had to recognize the "boats" in my own life before I recognized God's hand in my life. I'm going to share that a little further on, but first, I think a story from the Book of Mormon is particularly instructive.

Lehi, a Book of Mormon prophet, received many visions from the Lord concerning the Gospel and the last days. The visions were powerful, compelling, and forever changed the future of Lehi’s life and that of his posterity. These visions, however, appear to have received pretty mixed reviews from Lehi’s own family. Some for better and some for worse. His son Nephi said this:

"17 And it came to pass after I, Nephi, having heard all the ^awords of my father, concerning the things which he saw in a ^bvision, and also the things which he spake by the power of the Holy Ghost, which power he received by faith on the Son of God--and the Son of God was the ^cMessiah who should come--I, Nephi, was ^ddesirous also that I might see, and hear, and know of these things, by the power of the ^eHoly Ghost, which is the ^fgift of God unto ^gall those who diligently seek him, as well in times of ^hold as in the time that he should manifest himself unto the children of men." (1 Nephi 10:17)

Nephi then went on to pray unto the Lord and was carried away in His spirit. In visions that expounded on what his father had already shared with him, Nephi was shown the coming of John the Baptist, Mary giving birth to the Lamb of God, the baptism and ministry of Jesus Christ in Jerusalem, the atonement of Jesus Christ, the visions of John the Beloved, the Great Apostasy, the coming of Christ to the Americas, the utter destruction of the Nephite civilization, the eventual colonization of the American continent, and the restoration of the Gospel in the last days. Nephi was shown one of the most vivid and important divine revelations in human history, just because he asked. Imagine how frustrated he must have been when he returned from that heavenly experience to find his brothers, Laman and Lemuel, arguing over what their father had said:

"6 And it came to pass that after I had received ^astrength I spake unto my brethren, desiring to know of them the cause of their disputations.

7 And they said: Behold, we cannot understand the words which our father hath spoken concerning the natural branches of the ^aolive tree, and also concerning the Gentiles.

8 And I said unto them: Have ye ^ainquired of the Lord?

9 And they said unto me: ^aWe have not; for the Lord maketh no such thing known unto us." (1 Nephi 15:6-9)

Look at the contrast between these two experiences. They had all heard the same information from their father, but Nephi was the only one humble enough to go and ask God. Laman and Lemuel were too hung up on the fact that they didn’t believe God could answer their prayers, while Nephi on the other hand knew for a fact that he did. He had just experienced it personally. He had just seen one of the most complex visions recorded in all scripture, but his personal experience could have no effect on the unwilling minds and hearts of his brothers. It was Nephi’s trust in God to help him resolve his doubts that made the difference.

I think the message here is pretty clear. Elder Anderson taught that "Spiritual questions deserve spiritual answers from God." If we want to know God’s will, we have to ask him ourselves. We have to go to the source. If we allow our pre-existing beliefs to keep us from trusting God enough to see what He thinks, then we will never be able to find the answer we are looking for. When we "look past the mark" we don’t allow Heavenly Father to guide us in his own way, and what better way could there be than that of the Almighty God?

That doesn’t mean that we ignore our doubts or concerns, but it does mean that we don’t trust our own thoughts or the opinions of others more than we trust God. We also shouldn’t allow that which we don’t understand to block us from asking God or from partaking in the blessings of the Gospel. I have felt that before. I have become so consumed with what Joseph Smith did or didn’t do that for a time I completely stopped asking the question that really matters; was Joseph Smith called of God? Heavenly Father knows whether or not that is true better than anyone, and by the power of the Holy Ghost he will give us an answer. Once I have a spiritual confirmation from God, I can then place even the most troubling historical events into their appropriate context.

 If I don’t stop and ask God though, then I may become as Laman and Lemuel, constantly questioning and doubting without truly seeking guidance from the correct source. This even started to happen to me recently as I read a critically acclaimed biography on Joseph Smith. There wasn’t much information that I hadn’t heard before, but the power of God was completely taken out of the equation for academic purposes. There was nothing that was "faith-destroying" and the book was written by an active member of the LDS church. The book was written with good intentions and has been a source for many struggling with whether or not Joseph Smith was a prophet to better understand the historical context of his life. It was good information and it was helpful, but it soon became a distraction and I started to slack on my faithful study of the Gospel. I was only focusing on historical aspects of things, and I wasn't stopping to think of who was at the center of it all; Jesus Christ. We only believe Joseph Smith to have been a servant of Jesus Christ, but I wasn't contemplating the aspects of Joseph's life that expressly connected his work to the Savior’s plan. I saw only the raw uncensored life of a man, but I ignored God's power in all of it. Slowly I started feeling my light dim, and almost completely under my nose doubt and spiritual fatigue started to creep in. I continued to pray, read, and attend the temple as arduously as possible, but I couldn’t seem to shake myself out of my funk. It wasn’t even about Joseph Smith anymore, but I realized that I had a hard time believing anything that had to do with spiritual matters. I couldn’t read about any type of divine miracle without a figurative asterisk entering my mind. I couldn’t even think of my past without remembering the sad times or the mistakes that I had made. Everything in my life, past and present, had a dull undertone to it, and I was completely exhausted. I still believed and deep down inside I knew that I would climb out of it, but the despair that set in was all too real. I knew that I needed to allow the healing power of Jesus Christ to flow into my life once again, but I wasn’t quite sure how to do that. One night as I sat on the couch with my girlfriend (she was a lifesaver), I told her I just wanted to know again that God loved me. I wanted to feel that same spiritual enthusiasm I had always felt. She reminded that he did love me, and that everything would be okay. 

 The following day I found that love I was looking for in the form of a job offer. A few months before, I sent my resume to a few different optometrists in the valley asking if they had any openings for the summer. I knew it was a longshot because I would only have a couple of months to work before leaving for school, and I figured not many people were going to train someone just so they could have them leave right away. No one ever really got back to me, so I started looking for other jobs. Once June started, I completely gave up on any hope of working at an optometrist’s office over the summer. Summer was short enough of as is, and we were already almost a third of the way through! Then, in the second week of June, the day after I asked for a reminder of God’s love for me, I was offered a job in the office of a doctor that specialized in neuro-optometry. She apologized that my resume had been sort of lost in translation for a couple months, but that they would be interested in bringing me in for the summer. I got exactly what I was looking for, at exactly the right time. It wasn’t a vision or a miraculous revelation by any means, but it did flip the whole script inside my mind. Over the past few years opportunities in Optometry have been some of the best outlets for God to answer my prayers, and I knew that this one especially came from Him. I knew, or perhaps just remembered, that he loved me.

Soon after, I started the Book of Mormon over again, but this time I went out of my way to study carefully and faithfully, focusing specifically on the power and grace of Jesus Christ exhibited by its teachings. After just one study session I felt the Holy Ghost bring peace back into my heart, and after a couple days I felt the pure ebbs and flows of faith return to my soul. I started to find the answers that God intended for me, and stopped focusing on worldly information that would never completely suffice.

We all struggle with different things and our faith is challenged in many different ways. Some of us have questions and doubts that bother us for years that others may not even think twice about. We each have a unique journey, but my testimony is that he knows each of our journey’s perfectly. Combine that perfect knowledge with his perfect love, and we have the perfect guide to take us by the hand and pull us out of darkness and confusion. He will never give up on us, and we should never give up on him. 

When we have spiritual concerns or questions, true answers will come from God by the power of the Holy Ghost. If we trust in our own wisdom, and look only for what we believe those answers should look like, we’ll miss the sometimes subtle help God is extending towards us.

"8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.

9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." (Isaiah 55:8-9)

"…But behold, I, Nephi, will show unto you that the tender ^cmercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of ^ddeliverance." (1 Nephi 1:20)