"What desirest thou?"

This week in church the Sunday School lesson was on Nephi's vision and explanation of his father's vision of the Tree of Life.  In 1 Nephi 11, as Nephi is praying, he is "caught away in the Spirit of the Lord, yea, into an exceedingly high mountain." Upon arriving at the top, the Spirit asks, "What desirest thou?"

 Nephi's answer was to see the things his father had seen. If I got that question, I could think of lots of things I'd desire. That changes from moment to moment, but very few of them rise to the level of appropriate for the situation. Some seem greedy and ungrateful (a wife and family), and some seem inconsistent with the Plan (to never sin again).

Then during the Sacrament I listened carefully to the prayers (the guy who said them today had a great voice, and recited them very well).  I think the thing I want the most is what I already have--that I may always have the Spirit to be with me.

Thanks for parting the sea and all, but now we're hungry

Exodus 15 is a song sung by the Israelites after their miraculous rescue crossing the Red Sea.  A song of praise to Moses, the Lord, and the redemption of Israel. "Thou in thy mercy hast led forth the people which thou hast redeemed: thou hast guided them in thy strength unto thy holy habitation" (v 13).

Exodus 16 starts with Israel complaining for want of bread. "Would to God we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the flesh pots, and when we did eat bread to the full; for ye have brought us forth into this wilderness, to kill this whole assembly with hunger" (v 3).

Trying to liken the scriptures to my own situation, I find that I've had my moments of redemption and rescue from, well, not slavery, but unhappiness and unfilfillment to be sure.  Also like Israel, I have complained about the want of bread, focusing on things I lack instead of the tremendous blessings I've already received.

That strikes me as a pretty common occurrence.  Israel went through the same cycle many times, as did the Nephites and Jaredites in the Book of Mormon.

Seeing these contrasting attitudes in back-to-back chapters reminds me, when I roll my eyes at the ingratitude and short memory of Israel, that I need to be grateful for my blessings and my rescue.  I'm in the Lord's holy habitation, and if I don't yet have everything I'd like to have there, I can still dedicate myself to Him because what He's given me is so incredible, and so much better than what I had before.

And if I have to wait on the Lord's time frame for more blessings, He's already demonstrated the nature of those blessings, and they're worth waiting for.

"Prepare them that they may shine"

I read the story of The Brother of Jared and the stones today, from Ether 3.  I'm building on my last post about exercising faith in the Lord's ability to bless our efforts, to "keep our feet."

As we pray for guidance, I imagine that the Lord's response is often like it was to Jared's brother: "What will ye that I should prepare for you?"  We ask for the Lord's help with something, and he puts it right back to us.  "What would you like me to do?"

I've been struggling with what to do for a place to live and have been asking for help and guidance.  Acting as if my answer is "What will ye that I should prepare for you?" my answer back is, "A place where I can meet neighbors and be an instrument to bring one of them to the gospel."

I hope there's someone in South Jordan in my new townhome complex.

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I also recall a lesson from Sunday School some years ago.  The teacher, a former member of the bishopric of that ward, equated Jared's request of the Lord ("Touch these stones, O Lord, with thy finger, and prepare them that they may shine forth in darkness; and they shall shine forth unto us in the vessels which we have prepared, that we may have light while we shall cross the sea") with what a bishop prays for every time he extends a calling.

Bishops and other leaders are commanded and entrusted to watch over their ward, or stake, or other area--make them "tight like unto a dish," so to speak.  And bishops pray for divine help. And what's the Lord's response?  "What will ye that I should prepare for you?"

And bishops go to their "mount," the membership of their wards, and bring back to the Lord stones in the shape of people under the bishop's care.  Bishops then pray, ""Touch these stones, O Lord, with thy finger, and prepare them that they may shine forth."

And the Lord reaches out and touches those imperfect souls who faithfully accept callings, and helps them to magnify them and reach beyond their capacity to serve their neighbors in the Kingdom.

Keep Thou my feet

Today in Sunday School, in the lesson about the first several chapters of 1 Nephi, chapter 4 verse 6 struck me--possibly because the teacher focused on that verse for the theme of her lesson.  "And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do."

I've moved like that before.  Felt the prompting of the spirit very clearly, and even though it wasn't obvious how things would work out; I've exercised faith in following promptings that don't always coincide with my expectations.

I wondered today how much Nephi was "led by the Spirit" in the exact moments he was walking through Jerusalem hoping to get the Brass Plates from Laban.  Did the Spirit tell him to turn left and right, duck into this alley--someone's coming!?  My guess is no.  I think that Nephi felt prompted to go into the city alone, so he did, without any kind of plan or idea of what he'd do once there. He probably had the Spirit with him, but clearly not giving step-by-step directions.

I wonder if he felt frustrated like I sometimes do.  When I pray for guidance or help with specific decisions, the help doesn't always come--at least not in ways I want it to.  I want to be sure that my decisions are the right ones, that they'll work out for the best, and if I don't recognize a prompting about what decision I should make, I get frustrated and frozen--unable to act on my own.

I'm needing a new house.  Do I buy or rent?  I'm newly single, but how long will that last?  Should I invest in a home because it's such a good time to buy?  What if I do and then I find the girl I want to marry, and she works too far away?  Do I rent to keep it flexible in the meantime?  What about the tax break?  What if I miss this great opportunity to buy?  I pray, but don't feel like I know what the right answer is.  So, I freeze, needing to move in three weeks and having nowhere to go.

The teacher asked a class member to sing "Lead Kindly Light," which connects to this theme.  The first verse:

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I've always liked the last line about not asking to see the distant scene, but just one step ahead.  I know it's a weak area for me, freezing up when I can't see or worry about the future.

Before today I thought I had been greatly faithful at times when I've been prompted to act.  But today I realized that I lack faith in an important area--in the keeping of my feet.  I recognize that I don't need to see the "distant scene," but have trouble taking that one step that ought to be enough.

If I act in faith, the Lord will keep my feet, sheltering and blessing me along the way, even if I do not know beforehand the things I should do.

So today my decision is to act--to take the step--and my prayer is, "Keep Thou my feet."

The sorrow of the damned

I have felt as Mormon describes in Mormon 2:10-13:

10 And it came to pass that the Nephites began to repent of their iniquity, and began to cry even as had been prophesied by Samuel the prophet; for behold no man could keep that which was his own, for the thieves, and the robbers, and the murderers, and the magic art, and the witchcraft which was in the land.

11 Thus there began to be a mourning and a lamentation in all the land because of these things, and more especially among the people of Nephi.

12 And it came to pass that when I, Mormon, saw their lamentation and their mourning and their sorrow before the Lord, my heart did begin to rejoice within me, knowing the mercies and the long-suffering of the Lord, therefore supposing that he would be merciful unto them that they would again become a righteous people.

13 But behold this my joy was vain, for their sorrowing was not unto repentance, because of the goodness of God; but it was rather the sorrowing of the damned, because the Lord would not always suffer them to take happiness in sin.

I've seen people I love be so miserable that they constantly suffer--and they know it.  They know the connection between their choices and the painful consequences.  I've felt to rejoice, knowing that the mercies of the Lord are waiting when they feel the godly sorrow that leads to repentance.  I've even prayed at times that those I love will get to rock bottom more quickly--suffer more, faster--so they can get over it already and move on feeling the peace and joy that comes with repentance and forgiveness.

But, very often, it's not the faithful sorrow unto repentance that I've seen is the result, but what Mormon calls "the sorrowing of the damned."  True happiness will never come from sin.  The Lord couldn't make it so even if He wanted (Alma 42:15).

Faith is the missing ingredient.  It takes faith to ask God for forgiveness, and to want that forgiveness.  After my divorce it took me about eight weeks to get to that point, which was longer than it needed to be.  But moving from the sorrowing of the damned to the sorrowing unto repentance was the best decision I've made since.

The boundaries of freedom

I was reading 4 Nephi tonight.  Verse three says: "And they had all things common among them; therefore there were not rich and poor, bond and free, but they were all made free, and partakers of the heavenly gift (emphasis added)."

Several times the scriptures teach that freedom is present when one keeps God's commands.  As I thought about that while I was reading, I was struck by the oxymoronish nature of this teaching.  Restricting one's behavior to the boundaries set by the Lord makes you free, while exercising freedom outside those bounds enslaves you.  You are freer when you live within boundaries.

When I live as the Lord would have--keeping my behavior and my choices within the boundaries he has set--I am free in the sense that I have my agency before me. I can make a full range of choices at any time.  In short, as long as I'm righteous, I can always choose unrighteousness if I want.  Nicely, the more I'm successful at righteousness the less I want the opposite.

But when I make choices outside his boundaries, the consequences limit my future choices.  The Spirit withdraws, and temptation becomes stronger.  If I keep up that behavior, it can lead to the agency-limiting state of addiction.  The adversary has an ever greater hold on me.

In short, when I am close to God, my choices are always full and open.  When I'm closer to Satan, my choices become more limited.  It's always a choice to obey God, but when habit and addiction take over, my own will is more subject to the will of the adversary, which is the very definition of slavery.

That's why it's counter-intuitive, but true: "I, the Lord God, make you free, therefore ye are free indeed; and the law also maketh you free" (D&C 98:9).