25th February, 2010
Valentine’s Day Fireside - Audio in Spanish
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23rd February, 2010
“God is a lot better at being God than I am.”
I make lots of mistakes. I have always felt that I made more than my share. Some of them are fairly small. It is not hard to imagine that God will blink at them. But some of them are medium size or even giant size. And they have the annoying habit of accumulating faster than I can clear them away.
The chief advantage of making big mistakes is that they force us to acknowledge our need for repentance. Being filthy is not pleasant business. But it is so unfortunate that the only alternative to sin is this distasteful business of repentance. But maybe repentance is not what it appears to be. In early adulthood I felt bad when I sinned and I would redouble my efforts at virtue. It seemed to work tolerably well. At least I felt that I was making progress. But, as the years went by, it became clear that certain persistent failings and foibles were not effectively dissolved by such low-strength solvents as my efforts at self-improvement. More years went by and my attempts at repentance continued—with no better results. Somewhere about middle age it occurred to me that I might benefit from following the example of that remarkable repenter, Alma the younger. So, to my regimen of guilt and resolve I added formulaic prayer: “O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death” (Alma 36:18). That’s when the surprises began. After making a stupid and distasteful mistake (a sin), I found myself in the same tired monologue: “Why do I make the same mistakes? What is wrong with me? Why can’t I ever change?” Hot tears bespoke my desperation. Fortunately I was too discouraged and tired to stiffen my resolve and schedule my growth. Instead I slipped to my knees, I planted my tearful face on the ground, and I gave myself up. “O Lord and Father, I have no excuses for my mistakes. I know better. I have been blessed by your patience and goodness yet I return again and again to my boundless imperfection. Please, please rescue me. I do not ask because I deserve thy grace. I plead because thou art my only hope. Please give me some hope. Please cleanse me. Please remove this stubborn and sullied disposition. O Father . . . .” As I prayed, I felt divine goodness encircling me with unexpected peace and love. I felt comforted and renewed. I instinctively protested: “Hold it. Stop. You can’t love me now. I am filthy. Let me clean myself up first and then I will welcome your visit.” The irony and presumption dawned on me. “Let me clean myself up.” Am I God that I can remove sin? But how can I possibly entertain the divine when I am filthy? There must be a cleansing process before the offended Spirit can return. Alma teaches us the incisive answer. Before his desperate plea for mercy, he could not endure the thought of facing God. “. . . the very thought of coming into the presence of my God did rack my soul with inexpressible horror. Oh, thought I, that I could be banished and become extinct both soul and body, that I might not be brought to stand in the presence of my God, to be judged of my deeds. (Alma 36:14–15) Yet, only minutes later, he exclaimed “oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain! Yea, methought I saw, even as our father Lehi saw, God sitting upon His throne, surrounded with numberless concourses of angels, in the attitude of singing and praising their God; yea, and my soul did long to be there” (Alma 36:20, 22). How does a person go from being ranked among the vilest of sinners, and dreading the heavenly face-off, to having joy in a heavenly vision? The answer is Jesus. When we call on Him, bringing our whole souls as an offering, He cleanses us. Being clean, we may immediately entertain the divine. Jesus’ message to me in my penitent state was clear: “Wally, you make yourself humble. I will make you clean.” What a remarkable surprise. He is the God of my life. I am not. I always thought that, if I organized myself, tried really hard, and filled myself with goodness, that I could somehow become a pretty decent saint. Don’t we fare according to our management and prosper according to our genius and conquer according to our strength? No. That is the anti-Christ doctrine taught by Korihor. It logically leads us to the conclusion that there could be no atonement and that none is needed (Alma 30:17). Our latter-day self-sufficiency is evident in many forms. Do we depend more on our planners or the scriptures to make sense of our lives? Are our cultural icons as likely to be the gentle meat cutter as the prominent businessperson? Is meekness as important as prominence to us? Do we turn to him in all things? Do we gladly acknowledge our dependence on God? When I was a college student I bristled at the idea that man is nothing (Moses 1:10). I eagerly awaited a postmortal rendezvous with Moses to update him on the best humanistic thinking. Maybe Moses merely intended to say that our physical strength is very limited, I reasoned. But King Benjamin slams the door on that option as he seems to rejoice in our nothingness, our worthless and fallen state (Mosiah 4:5). Beautiful King Benjamin also gave the context for our nothingness. “For behold, if the knowledge of the goodness of God at this time has awakened you to a sense of your nothingness, and your worthless and fallen state—” (Mosiah 4:5). The goodness of God is the context for our nothingness. My early efforts to make myself saintly failed because I drew on my power rather than his. Just as for King Benjamin, Moses’ discovery of nothingness was in the context of God’s goodness. He had ruled in Pharaoh’s court for years. But in his desert tutoring, he was granted a heavenly vision. God introduced himself to Moses: “Behold, I am the Lord God Almighty, and Endless is my name; for I am without beginning of days or end of years; and is not this endless?” (Moses 1:3). As mortals we may be tempted to wonder why God would flex His eternal muscles so conspicuously. Does He think He needs to impress Moses? The words after the grand introduction of himself: “And, behold, thou art my son” (Moses 1:4). God presented His merits so that Moses could understand His divine heritage. He has no interest in ostentation. He only wants to teach us. In a remarkable parallel of that same pattern of building a context around us, Father shows Moses the extent of His creation before inviting him: “I have a work for thee, Moses, my son” (Moses 1:6). The context for every person’s life work is the goodness of God. Our rejoicing, our repenting, our growing are all made possible by a divine grant. I have often taken comfort that Nephi apparently felt as flawed and imperfect as I have felt. But there was a subtle transformation that I had not noticed in his psalm (2 Nephi 4:17–23; note the bold words). 17. O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities. 18. I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me. 19. and when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins;
nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted
The turning point is: “nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted.” Important words: “I know in whom I have trusted.” Not Nephi. Not Lehi. But God. Notice a significant difference in his post-transformation statements:
20. My God hath been my support;
he hath led me through mine afflictions in the wilderness;
and he hath preserved me upon the waters of the great deep.
21. he hath filled me with his love, even unto the consuming of my flesh.
22. he hath confounded mine enemies, unto the causing of them to quake before me.
23. Behold, he hath heard my cry by day, and he hath given me knowledge by visions in the night time.
Nephi did not merely add a dose of Jesus to his own program of self-improvement. He entirely changed his focus. Rather than grieving over his own abundant failings, he turned to Jesus’ remarkable goodness. He stopped talking about Nephi. He focused on Jesus.
Nephi then recounts some of God’s gifts to him and glories in his only hope. “Rejoice, O my heart, and cry unto the Lord, and say: O Lord, I will praise thee forever; yea, my soul will rejoice in thee, my God, and the rock of my salvation. O Lord, wilt thou redeem my soul? Wilt thou deliver me out of the hands of mine enemies? Wilt thou make me that I may shake at the appearance of sin?” (2 Nephi 4:30–31).
Nephi found joy and hope by turning entirely to the Lord. “O Lord, wilt thou encircle me around in the robe of thy righteousness! O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever. I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh” (2 Nephi 4:33–34).
I must not put my trust in the arm of flesh. I cannot save me. Nor can any other human. But He can.
The Book of Mormon, with its relentless testimony of Jesus’ redemptiveness, is the great latter-day corrective. If anything can save us from our self-sufficiency, it is the message of the Book of Mormon. The great danger of the latter-days may be that we will dilute its message of divine redemption with our do-it-yourself, American, can-your-own-peaches, push-your own-handcart self-sufficiency and find that being valiant in the testimony of Jesus is incompatible with salvational self-sufficiency. Ammon’s explosion of rejoicing captures the essential Book of Mormon message. “Who could have supposed that our God would have been so merciful as to have snatched us from our awful, sinful, and polluted state?” (Alma 26:17).
All of this reliance on Jesus can make a good, red-blooded, twenty-first century American Mormon pretty uncomfortable. Are we shifting all the responsibility to him? What is our duty? The best answer comes (predictably) from scripture. Notice the clear division of labor expressed in this beautiful triptych: “Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed” (D&C 123:17).
We do all that we are able, whether much or little. And we do it cheerfully. Then we stand still. That sounds very serene. Faith-filled. The result is that we see the hand of God doing the work that He is uniquely able to do. He will guide us, teach us, and, most important of all, cleanse and perfect us.
What must we do to qualify for His goodness? Paul’s surprising message is that we must need it. (Oh, how I need it!) “Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).
Need. I have more than my share of need. And he, having made an infinite and eternal sacrifice, has more than His share of grace, mercy—redemption. How is our requisite need expressed? How do we draw His power into our lives? In humility. Jesus’ remarkable definition of righteousness still surprises us: “I tell you, this man [the penitent sinner] went down to his house justified [rather] than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted” (Luke 18:14).
Just as the process of repentance is different from what I expected, so also is the outcome. When I was younger I hoped to one day be capable and confident. But there is something better than self-sufficiency and self-confidence. “. . . then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God” (D&C 121:45).
Divine confidence is infinitely better than self-confidence. Self-confidence is always flawed and fretful because it depends on a fallible source. Divine confidence provides the serenity to face trials, death, joy, repentance, disappointment, and, ultimately, admission to His presence.
Shortly before he died, Lehi summed up the repentance process we call life. “But behold, the Lord hath redeemed my soul from hell; I have beheld his glory, and I am encircled about eternally in the arms of his love” (2 Nephi 1:15).
I am glad to know that the one who is in charge of saving me is a lot more capable than I. I go to him gladly and regularly for the cleansing that He so graciously offers. I rejoice that I can be encircled in the arms of His perfect love. “Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; yea, behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever” (Alma 26:12).
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22nd February, 2010
Wally Teaches Valentine’s Day Fireside
Listen to the fireside here
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8th February, 2010
Nephi’s Question and Moroni’s Answer
Nephi grieved from the depths of his heart:
My heart exclaimeth: O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities. (2 Nephi 4:17)
Can you feel Nephi’s pain? He was not merely saddened by his errors, he was grieving his humanness. He was sorrowing for his sins. And he felt bound to them and bounded by them. He hated the fetters of sin!
I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me. (2 Nephi 4:18)
As much as Nephi loved God, his rejoicing felt inauthentic when his life was so riddled with error, weakness—let’s use the word: sin.
And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins; (2 Nephi 4:19)
Nephi poignantly poses the questions that burden earnest seekers of goodness. Why can’t I overcome sin? Why, when I know so much and try so hard, does it continue to bedevil me? Why aren’t I better than I am when He helps me as much as He does?
His whole soul cried out. His spirit yearned to be set free of the exhausting gravity of frailty, imperfection, weakness, lack of resolve—there it is again: sin.
We may be tempted to soften Nephi’s point by imagining that his sins were quite different from ours. He does not enumerate or detail his sins and we should probably not speculate about them. Yet I think Nephi would be offended if we dulled his point by blunting his message. He said that he sinned. And he knew that sin offended God and burdened his soul.
Nephi jumped right from the question to his post-answer rejoicing with a mere acknowledgment of Christ:
Nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted.
Nephi’s relationship with and experience of Jesus was so great that he turned on a dime. He went from grieving to rejoicing with the utterance of the magical key. He did not give us the formula, the background, the process. He simply launched from earth to heaven. We are left amazed by the change without knowing the process.
In my view, that process was detailed almost a millennium later as part of the Book of Mormon benediction. In a wise and inspired note, Moroni revealed the divine process with elegant precision. As spokesman for Jesus, he said:
And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. (Ether 12:27)
Most of us feel that we don’t need that kind of help. There are already plenty of people (including we ourselves) who are willing to elaborate on our weakness. Yet there is something extraordinary about the way Jesus does that. He invites us to bring our weakness to Him so He can remove it. He doesn’t see us evaluatively but redemptively.Moroni continued to deliver Jesus’ invitation:
I give unto men weakness that they may be humble;
Weakness is heavenly-designed! Given heaven’s hatred of imperfection, there must be a good reason to provide it; Heaven must place unbelievable value on humility! Maybe humility is the gate to redemption.
My grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me;
There is the magical combination: our humility and His grace! When we set aside our preferences, our agenda, our demands and come to Him with open minds and hearts, He does magic.
For if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.
Wow. By recognizing our dependence on Him and by showing our trust in Him, we open the door to becoming strong. Suddenly we understand the Lord’s baffling message to Paul:
My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:9, emphasis added)
When we recognize and acknowledge our weakness, our dependence, Jesus can make us strong. Suddenly self-sufficiency dissolves. In its place comes confidence in the presence of God (See D&C 121:45).
Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)
Let’s be sure we understand Nephi, Moroni, and Paul’s message to us: Weakness is the inheritance of mortals. You will sin. Since you care about spiritual things, you will be burdened by sin and weakness. You will hate them. But be careful. Don’t try to set yourself right. Don’t stay away from Him because of oppressive guilt. Only One can remove sin and guilt. Turn to Him. Run to Him! And, in perfect tranquility, trust Him to carry you toward becoming “a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13).
This is where faith becomes very real. Do I believe that He wants to save me? Do I believe that He does love me in spite of my persistent mistakes? Do I believe that He will embrace me and sustain me and lead me to an ever-better life? Do I believe that He has an exalted view of my ultimate place?
So the question is not whether we will sin. We will sin. The question is whether we, having resisted sin the best we can, will gladly come to Christ. He can—and gladly will—cleanse our souls, grant meaning to our lives, wipe away our tears, fill our lives with growth, and award us Eternity. That is Moroni’s answer to Nephi’s question.
Questions to ponder:
Have you noticed that, after sinning, you sometimes feel dry, empty, and confused? Have you also noticed that, as quickly as you throw yourself on the merits, mercy, and grace of Christ, that you feel lightened, refreshed, and hopeful? We may feel even better than before we sinned—because our weakness led us to much-needed humility. Usually this does not happen once-for-all. We must go back to Him in humility time and again.
What sins have I committed in the last week, day, or hour? Have I taken them to Christ so that they can be transformed into growth? Or have I allowed my spiritual house to become littered with sin mites that I try to ignore but which ultimately rob me of joy and growth?
Sin and weakness serve God’s purpose when they send us back to Him, humble and earnest. Am I ready to round up my forgotten sins and general weakness and take them to Christ? Will I allow Him to take me to the next level of discipleship?
Rather than getting discouraged with any past efforts at self-improvement, am I willing to call on Him more earnestly forever knowing that only He can save me?
Posted at 5:20 pm | Comments (6)
4th January, 2010
A Few Ways to Assess Our Spiritual Progress
Years ago I read a talk by Truman Madsen in which he asked 20 questions to help us assess whether we are experiencing the Spirit in our lives. His questions included experiences such as feeling healed by the sacrament to speaking beyond our natural ability. I love the idea that we can gauge our spiritual progress. We can know how we are doing in our relationship with God.
It is good that we focus on God rather than ourselves. Yet there is probably value in marking our development. It can be fundamentally encouraging to realize that God has made progress in rebuilding our souls.
Taking the measure of our progress
Most of my life I have felt as if I was a spiritual failure. I had lofty goals for goodness and I knew I wasn’t attaining them. Yet, as I have come to know God better and trust His purposes more, I think I have perceived Him making some small progress in my stubborn soul.
So I share my personal list of markers. I do not have 20 of them as Brother Madsen did; but these are the signs in my soul that have given me hope that God can yet make something of me.
1. We love to be with the saints. “He that loveth his brother, abideth in the light” (I John 2:10) We know that our fellow travelers have their quirks. We are dimly mindful of hurts and hard words. But any remembered pains are swamped by the sheer joy of seeing so many good people, who share the common struggle toward Goodness. While we may all love one another, each of us shows our affection in different ways. Nancy and I like to wade into our ward and start hugging. We hug the little ones, the big ones, and the in-between ones—that is, we hug them if they seem to like hugs. Some seem to prefer an earnest handshake. So we offer handshakes. I feel sure that the love we feel for our ward members is a heavenly gift.
2. Irritation diminishes. “And now I would that ye should be……full of patience and longsuffering” (Alma 7:23) Anyone who is not irritated with someone at church is either ready to be translated, or isn’t spending enough time at church. We will all be irritated at times. And the irritation seems to bunch up around certain people. Brother So-and-so thinks he knows everything. Sister So-and-so seems cold and distant. It is natural for us to ritualize our reaction so that we bristle at the sight of the person. It is also natural for us to judge the others and justify ourselves. But the natural man is an enemy to God. As God works on us, we feel ourselves less and less inclined to be irritated. We become more interested in the life story that brought them to our lives the way they are. We look for ways to both understand and help them. Irritation is gradually crowded out by compassion.
3. We think less of ourselves. This has a double meaning. We not only think about ourselves less often but we also are less big in our own story. You probably remember Ammon’s answer when Aaron accused him of bragging: “I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; . . . I will rejoice in my God” (Alma 26:11). The spiritually mature think more and more of Jesus. As we mature, we recognize our dependence on Him for all good things. We may become less dismayed by our humanness and more ready to call on His goodness. We speak warmly and lovingly of Him. As we move from center stage of our own dramas, the star of our story is increasingly Jesus.
4. We see His goodness everywhere. “I will praise thee for ever; because thou hast done it: and I will wait on thy name; for it is good before thy saints” (Psalm 52:9). The more we experience God, the more we know that He consecrates even our afflictions for our gain. We are less afraid of trials and more grateful for blessings. We know that our lives are presided over by a perfectly loving and perfectly wise Father. While seeing His goodness in everything may be more difficult for those of us who think we should exercise significant control in our lives, or have trouble trusting, even we can learn to relax in His gracious arms.
5. We get revelation. “Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart” (D&C 8:2-3). Revelation comes in many ways. Sometimes an understanding of a scripture tiptoes into our minds. Sometimes we find unexpected words flowing from us as we teach or testify. Sometimes we feel the shock of truth when we hear someone else teach. Maybe we even find new desires sneaking into our prayers. It is always cause for celebration when we discover that God is patiently teaching and guiding us.
6. We feel heavenly power. While we are not called to control the universe, God often allows His humble followers to join Him in accomplishing holy purposes. He allowed humble, meek Enoch to move mountains and redirect rivers in order to protect His people. Sometimes God allows us to participate with Him in something divine. Perhaps we feel power flow through us as we pronounce a blessing. Maybe we feel redemption flow through us as we perform temple ordinances for long-departed ancestors. Or we may sense Him sending us on His errands as we make ourselves available to help others. As Joseph learned in Liberty Jail (see D&C 121), real power often has nothing to do with earthly power. What a blessing that God shares His power with us!
7. We rejoice. Several times every week, God traverses eternity to put His strong arms around me and lift me off the ground. I am dumbfounded when He does it. I join Ammon in words of wonder: “Who could have supposed that our God would have been so merciful as to have snatched us from our awful, sinful, and polluted state?” (Alma 26:17). Sometimes it is the words of a hymn that jar me with joy. Sometimes it is a harmonious truth that leaps out of scripture. Sometimes it is quite inexplicable; God just gives a random hug. Oh! How grateful I am!
I make no claim that this is a comprehensive or definitive list. It’s just my list—my attempt to note and appreciate the ways God continues to bless and refine one imperfect son. There are lots of times when I fall short, and lug myself along the path begrudging mortality its aches and pains. But those are not the measure of our progress. It is the flourishes of the Spirit that testify that we are on the path toward God.
Behind each of these markers is one great change: our motivation—our hearts. As we progress spiritually, we are less likely to do things out of grudging obedience. We don’t do things to check them off the checklist. We don’t do them for recognition or acclaim. We do them because of the relationship we have with God. Because we love Him with all our hearts, we join Him in His work. We assess our progress not to celebrate our accomplishments, but to recognize His graciousness.
Celebrating the milestones
As I think about our halting progress, I think of our dear little grandson Will. When he took his first faltering steps, we whooped and hollered. We acted as if all creation should celebrate!
I wonder if loved ones on the other side of the veil do the same thing every time we pass another spiritual milestone. We finally learn to trust God with some corner of our minds, hearts, and lives and joy busts loose in Eternity! We learn to hear the voice of God and angels sing praises. Truly, those that be with us are more than we can comprehend (See Elisha in 2 Kings 6:16).
While our progress may seem sporadic and spotty, God is able to do His redemptive work. He is able to refine and enlarge us if we will cooperative, even reluctantly, with His perfect purposes.
Posted at 12:53 pm | Comments (10)
3rd December, 2009
Marital Satisfaction is Largely a Choice
One of my all-time favorite quotes is by Irving Becker: “If you don’t like someone, the way he holds his spoon will make you furious; if you do like him, he can turn his plate over into your lap and you won’t mind” (Reader’s Digest, 1975, p. 19).
What Becker’s words suggest to me is that we all make choices to be furious or forgiving. If we choose to be furious, we find plenty of reasons to justify our judgments. After all, we all have human partners just crammed with frailties—including funny ways of holding their spoons.
In contrast, if we choose to be forgiving, we find a wealth of reasons to be pleased with our partners and happy in our relationships. A plate of food in the lab is transformed into a golden memory by loving partners. As two marriage scholars have observed: “The focus in marriage education programs on problem-solving skills is woefully inadequate because we now know that the emotional climate of marriage matters. . . . If spouses have a reservoir of good will and they show their affection regularly, they are far more likely to be able to work through their differences, to warm to each other’s point of view, and to cope effectively with stress” (p. 955, Huston & Melz, 2004).
Communication and problem-solving are not enough. But how do we develop that “reservoir of good will” that carries us past the challenges? That’s the key question. Gottman (1994) gives the answer: “In a stable marriage…the partners tend to view each other through “rose-colored” glasses. They assume that each other’s positive, admirable characteristics are an intrinsic part of their personality rather than occasional flukes. The good things about their relationship are considered stable and far-reaching while the bad patches or areas of tension are considered to be fleeting and situational. Over time, [unhappy] couples pay ever more attention to their spouse’s actions that confirm their negative assumptions. Over time you [can] become conditioned to look for and react to negatives in your spouse and your marriage. This becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy: the more you expect and search for negatives, the more likely you are to find them, and to highlight their significance in your mind” (pp. 118-120).
In other words, we find what we look for. If we look for the limits, faults, and flaws, we get dissatisfaction. If we look for the qualities, strengths, and nobility, we get admiration. Psychologists uniformly recognize that this is a bias. We do not see our spouses objectively. We filter our perceptions through our chosen lenses—either loving or judging.
All this is boiled down by God to a simple recommendation: Have charity. See as He sees. Serve as He serves. Love as He loves.
Just a footnote: I have known a handful of married persons who were so extreme in their narcissism that a fully cooperative relationship with them was not possible. For the vast majority of us, however, this is not the problem. Our judging and scorekeeping prevent us from seeing what God sees: One of His cherished children. The mortal shell does not have to prevent us from seeing the divine when we wear the glasses of charity.
References:Gottman, J. (1994). Why marriages succeed or fail and how you can make yours last. New York: Simon and Schuster.
Huston, T. L., & Melz, H. (2004). The case for (promoting) marriage: The devil is in the details. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 943-958.
Reader’s Digest (1975). Pocket treasury of great quotations. Pleasantville, NY: Reader’s Digest.
Posted at 5:54 pm | Comments (10)
9th November, 2009
Stumbling Over Truth: Governing our Lives with Godly Rules
By H. Wallace Goddard and Barbara Keil
“Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing ever happened.” -Winston Churchill
I have a good friend who often hesitates to make decisions or commitments. She wants to keep her options open to continue evaluating her choices. In her mind, this will enable her to avoid making mistakes. While she is right that it is a good idea for us to do our homework when making choices, her fear of making the wrong decision sometimes prevents her from making any commitment at all. She loses out on opportunities and experiences that would benefit her. This decision rule could be called the “safety first” rule.
Another good woman I know strives to do her best in every aspect of her life. As she evaluates how to invest her time and energy, she constantly challenges herself to the highest standards. She becomes overwhelmed and depressed when she feels she doesn’t live up to those standards. Her decision rule could be labeled, “anything short of perfection is failure”.
The dangers of our decision rules
All of us have underlying principles that come into play when we make choices about how to approach our lives. I’m going to call them “decision rules”. Decision rules are mental maps made up of personal beliefs or preferences that make us likely to think or act in certain ways. Often we think our decisions are based on wise and rational choices. But frequently they can be an expression of our fears, worries or hopes. There are many factors that contribute to decision rules, for example: the desire to be accepted, be in charge, feel loved, be successful, etc.
We all have unspoken decision rules but we almost never examine them. We usually aren’t even aware that we have them. As a result of not understanding the decision rules we are applying, we often make decisions and then wonder why they turn out badly.
Decision rules can be limiting and cause us to behave ineffectively. For example, someone who has been hurt in a prior relationship may adopt the decision rule to never fully trust anyone again. This might seem to serve as protection from future hurt. But a lack of trust will limit that person from fully entering into a loving relationship even with a deserving individual.
Even decision rules that seem founded on correct principles can become problematic when applied by our “natural man” mindset (see Mosiah 3:19). “I will always speak up for the gospel” can be a good standard when it leads us to seek missionary opportunities. But it can become ugly when we use it to excuse contentious arguments with nonmembers or members. The decision rule “I will surround myself with others who share my beliefs” appears to be a reasonable choice, but could cause us to miss out on opportunities to serve those outside of our ward community.
Rewiring our thinking
When a car does not perform optimally, we bring it to a mechanic who opens up the hood and looks at the inner workings in order to diagnose and fix the problem. Sometimes when we are not operating optimally we may need to “look under the hood” and examine our decision making process. We may need to change some parts.
How do we discover the decision rules that guide our lives? Consider the areas of your life: relationships, work, use of time, spiritual progress, growth opportunities, service, use of financial resources, current challenges. What are the problems that recur in your life? What decision rule might be behind the behavior that you know to be counter-productive?
What are the faulty decision rules that have held you hostage?
We might also ask ourselves in what ways we commonly break commandments. Maybe we get angry or justify unholy behavior. The desperate squeak from our consciences is evidence that we need to do more than try harder; we may need to change the rules that govern our behavior.
The person who is regularly timid may need to experiment with some courage. The person who worries about having everything in perfect order may choose to be selective about that perfectionism. The person who feels hurt by the comments of others may need to get outside his or her own view. The person who makes excuses for bad behavior may need to begin accepting accountability.
As we examine and challenge our decision rules, we can progress toward greater goodness. Yet sometimes when we analyze and diagnose our faulty thinking processes, we get into an endless loop. We may discover we have implemented yet another flawed decision rule: “This behavior cannot be changed.” We are using imperfect instruments to repair a defective system. Our attempts at self-repair often end in confusion and despair.
Rewiring by the Master Mechanic
We cannot sort out our minds and set them right when our fundamental problem is that we are fallen. We are all struggling entry-level mechanics with elementary tools in our repair cases. Yet the repair of fallenness requires a Master Mechanic. I recommend we patiently allow Him to tinker with us and our thinking. He will repair a fault here and a misunderstanding there. He will keep improving us. If we become unduly impatient and take over the job, we are likely to create a mess. If we patiently allow Him to tune and repair us, we will become what He is: a Master Mechanic.
To help the Master Mechanic fix our wiring, we should gladly submit to His diagnosis and repair. If we hold back because we like doing things our own way (this is a version of pride) or we don’t like to get help (this is self-sufficiency) or because we worry about what we will be asked to sacrifice (fear), then we remain broken and dysfunctional. We drag our way through our lives never functioning quite right and never really improving.
How do we get Him to rewire us? Little by little the Spirit will point out our ways of thinking that need fixing; our fears, worries, reluctances, lack of faith, shortsightedness, misjudgments, etc. As He reveals the need, we open our minds to a new way of thinking. We align ourselves with His guidance for our lives instead of our faulty decision rules. He will work to set us right.
The ideal decision rule
When Jesus had to make what was His most critical choice, He voiced the decision rule that guided every aspect of His life. “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” (Matt. 26:39)
This, of course, is the ideal decision rule: to turn our hearts, minds, and energy over to Him. We set aside our preferences and prejudices. We turn to Him and ask for His counsel. How would He have us view the situations we face? What would His advice be to us regarding how to approach our thoughts and actions? This only happens when we make the fateful decision to accept His decision rule: What would God have me do?
My friend who has been paralyzed from committing to new experiences because of a “safety first” decision rule is gradually learning to trust the Lord as He leads her towards embarking upon new growth opportunities. The woman who previously felt depressed due to her “I must be perfect” decision rule is learning that He does not require perfection to love her. As we continue to seek the Lord and His guidance rather than leaning on our own understanding, we will infuse all our decisions with His perfect wisdom.
Like most spiritual progress, we cheerfully do all we are able, and then we turn ourselves over to God. We try to re-program our thinking while knowing that it is ultimately God who will change our hearts.
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If you’re interested in strengthening your marriage, you may be interested in the Valentines Week Marriage Celebration-at-Sea with the Goddards, February 13-21, 2010, a cruise in western Caribbean and Panama. Go to Cruise Lady for more information or call Cruise Lady at 801-453-9444 or 888-707-4386.
Or you may be interested in getting a copy of Drawing Heaven into Your Marriage, the gospel-centered marriage book by Brother Goddard.
Also, Brother Goddard has a new 2-talk CD set out: “The Heart of a Healthy Marriage and a Happy Family.”
Posted at 10:32 am | Comments (6)
5th October, 2009
The Problem with Divorce
Consider the stern warning provided to our times by the Lord Himself:
For whoso cometh not unto me is under the bondage of sin.And whoso receiveth not my voice is not acquainted with my voice, and is not of me.And by this you may know the righteous from the wicked, and that the whole world groaneth under sin and darkness even now.And your minds in times past have been darkened because of unbelief, and because you have treated lightly the things you have received—Which vanity and unbelief have brought the whole church under condemnation.And this condemnation resteth upon the children of Zion, even all.And they shall remain under this condemnation until they repent and remember the new covenant, even the Book of Mormon and the former commandments which I have given them, not only to say, but to do according to that which I have written—That they may bring forth fruit meet for their Father’s kingdom; otherwise there remaineth a scourge and judgment to be poured out upon the children of Zion.For shall the children of the kingdom pollute my holy land? Verily, I say unto you, Nay. (D&C 84: 51-59, emphasis added)
In the last few years I have had experiences that cause me to wonder whether we are also under condemnation for taking lightly another covenant—temple covenants in general and temple marriage in particular.Several times I have heard people express a variant of the following: “Our marriage has been so hard. I have tried everything to improve it. I have prayed and fasted and begged God in the temple. After an extended period, I have felt that the Lord released me from my covenants. I feel free to divorce my spouse.”
First, let me say that there are legitimate reasons for divorce. But, after making temple covenants, they are extreme and unusual. Abuse is the clear-cut case. When a spouse endangers life and limb or entirely removes agency, then divorce may be necessary.
Jesus Himself stated the case very bluntly: “Moses because of the hardness of your hearts suffered you to put away your wives: but from the beginning it was not so. And I say unto you, Whosoever shall put away his wife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry another, committeth adultery: and whoso marrieth her which is put away doth commit adultery” (Matthew 19:8-9).
I suspect that when we take divorce lightly, we have hearts as hard as the ancient Jews. I think that the residents of Heaven weep when we wear and shed our covenants lightly. We thwart God’s redemptive and refining purposes in our lives when we fail to take covenants seriously.
Imposing our answers on God
Another part of the ritual drama troubles me. When a person prays for months or years to get heavenly permission to leave covenants, I am reminded of Martin Harris and his insistence on taking the 116 pages of Book of Mormon translation. He simply was not willing to accept the Lord’s counsel. When we beg and beg to get our preferred answer, we may be thwarting God’s purposes. We may be imposing our will on our lives to our eternal detriment. We are much better in God’s hands.God’s answers usually have a character all their own. They tend to be simple and challenging. They tend to ask us to honor covenants and keep an eternal perspective. They usually ask us to be more of what He is.
For example, I suspect that a revelation from God is NOT likely to sound like: “Yes. I know what you mean. That husband of yours is a pain! You have borne more than enough. You are free to move on.” I think it is more likely that He will say something like: “Yes. Covenants challenge you. And those challenges are designed to make you more like me: patient, long-suffering, gentle, meek, and loving. It is hard. Yet, as you resolve to do what is required, I will strengthen you, sustain you, and give you peace.”
God’s process is surprisingly predictable. He asks us to move from questions like: “Why aren’t I getting what I need and deserve?” to questions like “How can I draw on the power of Heaven to better honor my covenants?” God’s process almost always requires us to set aside our agenda and accept His. He asks that we be humble rather than demanding. He asks us to be faith-filled rather than despairing. He asks us to repent ourselves rather than our partners. He asks that we call on Him for merciful sustaining rather than storybook lives. We cannot have great relationships without great reliance on the One who creates and sustains healthy relationships.
God honors those who honor covenants
There are some who face garden-variety complaints within their marriages. Instead of blaming their spouses, issuing demands for change, and day-dreaming of life with a better partner, if they pull the weeds in their own souls their marriages can flourish.
But what of those who have made sincere attempts to be loving and supportive and continue to face an emotionally distant or argumentative spouse?
I have a beloved friend who once called me and asked how much he should bear as his wife detested him, attacked him, and even flirted with another man. I told him that I thought he should do all that he was able to do so that, when he faced God, he could attest that he had made every effort possible. My friend stayed and acted nobly. In the end, his wife divorced him. But he did all that he could. And he did it cheerfully and lovingly. I honor this good man. I believe God honors him as well.
Would God desire for us to hold onto a loveless or emotionally draining marriage? I don’t know. I honestly don’t. Only God can speak for God. But I can speak for a principle. God asked Jesus to hold onto us even as it shredded His mortal body. Jesus held onto us even when the price was incalculable and pain intolerable. Are we capable of holding on in the face of a marriage filled with painful difficulties and disappointments? Probably not—at least,not on our own. But if we call upon the mercy, strength, and healing of Jesus, we can bear things in partnership with the Savior that no human alone can bear. And if we call upon the sustaining power of the atonement, we can face our marital trials with hope and serenity.
His sternness is sweet
I fear that a secular doctrine has crept into the world and the Church and infected us. If something is hard, I shouldn’t have to do it. Challenges should be minor. Pain should be no more than a hiccup. We want pain relievers. We certainly don’t want gut-wrenching and soul-stretching challenges.So does God intend for us to bail out of soul-stretching challenges to achieve an easier path?
“Let us here observe, that a religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary unto life and salvation; … it is through the medium of the sacrifice of all earthly things that men do actually know that they are doing the things that are well pleasing in the sight of God. When a man has offered in sacrifice all that he has for the truth’s sake, not even withholding his life, and believing before God that he has been called to make this sacrifice because he seeks to do his will, he does know, most assuredly, that God does and will accept his sacrifice and offering, and that he has not, nor will not seek his face in vain. Under these circumstances, then, he can obtain the faith necessary for him to lay hold on eternal life” (Joseph Smith, Lectures on Faith [1985], 69).
In its own way, God’s sternness in insisting upon sacrifice is sweet. He does not want to redeem us while we are flawed, irresolute and drenched in sin. He wants to remove the sin and make us like Him. This will require some high-pressure washing.We should not expect nor ask for a life devoid of sacrifice. And yet we can find hope in the assurance that we will not seek His face in vain. The Savior bore all our pains so that He knows how to succor His people. To those who groan under the weight of a marriage seemingly defined by loneliness, ill will, or disagreements, there is hope that the Savior knows your pain and stands ready to sustain you. During our times of desperation, He is anxious to be called in. Our extremity is His opportunity.
Jesus lamented several times that He was as a hen yearning to gather vulnerable chicks, but they would not be rescued, He is speaking to us as well. He invites us to be lifted by His power. If we conclude that we have done all we feel capable of to deal with a suffering marriage and as a result there is no longer any hope, we forego our opportunity to be sustained and ultimately healed by Him. The bracing reality is that we cannot be saved and our marriages cannot be saved without the merits, mercy and grace of the Holy One. There is no other way.
In writing this, it is not my intent to judge, condemn or pile guilt upon anyone. I do feel called to invite us saints to use the power of Christ to honor the seemingly impossible demands of our covenants. And temple marriage is the highest covenant. I believe that the greatest blessings will come to us as we bring to the altar of our covenants all that we have and all that we are. It is not easy. But we should not expect that making us godly will happen without real stretching. I believe that all of us should be anxiously engaged in strengthening our covenants in every way we can.
May God help us honor our sacred covenants.
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Thanks to Barbara Keil for her astute observations and helpful additions to this article.
If you’re interested in strengthening your marriage, you may be interested in the Valentines Week Marriage Celebration-at-Sea with the Goddards, February 13-21, 2010, a cruise in western Caribbean and Panama. Go to Cruise Lady for more information or call Cruise Lady at 801-453-9444 or 888-707-4386.
Or you may be interested in getting a copy of Drawing Heaven into Your Marriage, the gospel-centered marriage book by Brother Goddard.
Also, Brother Goddard has a new 2-talk set out: “The Heart of a Healthy Marriage and a Happy Family.”
Posted at 5:16 pm | Comments (7)
6th July, 2009
Question: Strengths
A powerful idea from Martin Seligman’s excellent book, Authentic happiness: “Authentic happiness comes from identifying and cultivating your most fundamental strengths and using them every day in work, love, play, and parenting.”
Many of us fret endlessly about our mistakes, faults, and shortcomings. Yet the key to our happiness is using our god-given strengths regularly.
What are your strengths?
How can you create more opportunities to use your strengths this week?
Posted at 8:45 pm | Comments (9)
29th June, 2009
May God Our Gold Refine
We gingerly pick our way through life’s options trying to minimize our distress and maximize our enjoyment. We flinch at the prospect of an all-vegetable dinner. We contort ourselves to reach each nutrient-free dessert. It would seem that the winners in life are those who navigate life on a cruise ship.
Yet few people experience such uninterrupted sweetness in life. We have a friend who fights an endless battle against numbing depression. Another struggles (with little success) to master compulsions that repeatedly have devastated her life. Another dear friend anguishes with doubts about life and God.
Adult realities are often quite different from our youthful dreams. In the course of our married life, Nancy has had many miscarriages. We lost count somewhere around twenty. In the midst of the early miscarriages, we prayed, got priesthood blessings, spent many hours in doctors’ offices, and fasted. But the miscarriages—and frustration—continued. At one time of keen disappointment, I even threatened heaven with permanent ill-will. “Why should so many people who don’t want children get them while those of us who yearn for them are denied them?”
As a result of our unanswered hope, I learned a very useful lesson: Be grateful in all things. I learned to say each time we lost another pregnancy, “That is great.” If asked why it was great, I could not give a reason. I merely knew that it felt good to go beyond accepting our disappointment with resignation to embracing it with joy.
Our experiences provided a priceless and timeless lesson. I no longer demand that God explain His purposes to me. It is enough that it happened. I trust that He will use it to bless us. Indeed, He already has. When I simply trust Him, I feel a keen joy in faith. Faith bathes every experience with sublime purpose. I still do not prefer miscarriages, but, when they come, I rejoice.
“Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks” (D&C 98:1).
In everything give thanks, for the good, the bad, and the baffling.
“Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted” (D&C 98:2).
Somehow, in ways we cannot comprehend, God is doing exactly what He has promised to do. He is blessing us. It is possible that the only purpose of the miscarriages was to teach us faith. If so, that is reason enough to bear the pain. Our friend who struggles with depression is inexpressibly grateful for glimpses of light in her life. Our friend who is troubled by compulsions has learned to hold to cherished family members. The friend beset by doubts finds simple ways to serve.
“Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord” (D&C 98:3).
A cynic may scoff, “Your pain, your afflictions, your suffering work for your good and His glory? Life is only a senseless tangle of anguish with merciful periods of numbness.” So it may seem.
Yet the universe is packed with irony. The keenest may be that God has so structured the universe that believing and disbelieving are equally viable. Only a very brave God would do such a thing. But He has woven assurances of His redemptiveness into the fabric of the universe. Only a compassionate God would do such a thing. When we put on the mantle of faith, a quiet confidence distills upon us.
Many Nephites found that as they grew in their humility and faith, their souls were filled with joy and consolation (Helaman 3:35). On top of present comfort, God offers eternal blessing to those who look beyond the immediate pain.
“And he who receiveth all things with thankfulness shall be made glorious; and the things of this earth shall be added unto him, even an hundred fold, yea, more” (D&C 78:19).
Our national tragedies can unite us in faith. Our family struggles can join us in love. Our personal disappointments can refine our purposes and strengthen our faith. Perhaps the surest sign of faith in a believer is that tragedy evokes submission and praise.
Lord, I know not what I ought to ask of thee; Thou only knowest what I need; Thou lovest me better than I know how to love myself. O Father! give to Thy child that which he himself knows not how to ask. I dare not ask either for crosses or consolations: I simply present myself before Thee, I open my heart to Thee. . . . Smite, or heal; depress me, or raise me up: I adore all thy purposes without knowing them; I am silent; I offer myself in sacrifice; I yield myself to Thee; I would have no other desire than to accomplish Thy will. Teach me to pray. Pray Thyself in me. Amen. (François de la Mothe Fenelon, quoted in Fosdick, Meaning of Prayer, pp. 58–59).
Adversity is a sacred trust. It is the raw material for making gold. When we put our earthly experiences on the altar of faith, He transforms them into glory.
“He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life that he may draw all men unto him” (2 Nephi 26:24).
Armed with faith we see the blessing in adversity.
Posted at 1:45 pm | Comments (7)

