...but right now, it hurts a little.

 

Your friends say to keep in touch,

But you know you won't.

Your teachers say come back and see them,

But you know you won't. 

Maybe one day it won't matter,

But right now, it hurt a little.

In 2019, about a year after Seth left for his mission, I decided that one way to focus my attention outward in service to others, rather than inward, missing Seth and grieving the empty nest, was to serve in the temple. Before I had a chance to act on this, a message was read in sacrament meeting explaining that they needed additional workers in the Jordan River Temple (our temple district up in Sandy). 

"Well perfect timing," I thought. I arranged for the needed interviews, and in just a few weeks, was set apart as an ordinance worker at Jordan River. Our shift coordinator began every preparation meeting by greeting us with "Welcome to the best day of the week!" 

She was absolutely right. 

I served every Friday afternoon for a year and a half, until March of 2020, when the world (and the temple) shut down in response to a life-threatening global pandemic. Dare I say all of us experienced some degree of trauma as we lived through what would become the single, most defining event of our lifetimes. Yet with all its horror, despair, grief, sadness, and loss, COVID invited us to rise higher in our humanity. Our response as a people was nothing short of heroic, and indeed, a bit of "good" shed slivers of light in the profound darkness. 

One sliver for me was the opportunity to serve in the Jordan River Temple through the phases of its reopening, post-pandemic. It was pure joy of to welcome small groups of family members, accompanying loved ones as they received their own temple ordinances. It was so quiet in the giant Jordan River Temple during that time. The Spirit radiated the Savior's grace as we all experienced God's healing power made manifest. 

About the time we made it to Phase 4, the temple fully reopened and functional, my family moved to Bluffdale. Temple workers are required to serve in their assigned temple district, and Bluffdale was part of the Oquirrh Mountain Temple district. 

I did not want to go. I did not want to change temples.

At all.

I'm sure there are lots of people who love change and embrace it wholeheartedly. I am not one of those people. I was so happy serving in the Jordan River Temple. I knew people there, I knew how the temple functioned, and I was trained on all the posts. Friday was, indeed, the best day of the week! It was so sad for me to leave.

When they insisted I move, the bishop of our ward expedited the process for me, and I only missed one week between serving at Jordan River and serving at my "new" temple, Oquirrh Mountain. It didn't take long for me to settle in there and feel perfectly at home. There were differences, yes. I missed the size and busyness of Jordan River. Oquirrh is tiny in comparison, and there is much more "down time" for workers. I missed serving as the chapel assistant, welcoming the company to the sessions and instructing them how and when to move to the endowment room. (Only brothers do this at Oquirrh Mountain.)

But I also had new opportunities that I hadn't had at Jordan River, including serving in the baptistry and on the sealing floor, and this past year as Endowment Coordinator. I grew to love that little temple; it became my own. And the lovely people who work there became my "Saturday afternoon friends." 

About a year ago, I sat in our preparation meeting one such Saturday afternoon, next to my friend Tess. As our temple matron began her remarks, she informed us that she would be sharing the final decisions regarding the reorganization of temple districts when the new Taylorsville and Tooele Temples open. Tess lives practically across the street from the Oquirrh Mountain Temple; there wasn't a doubt she and Corby would stay there. She turned to me and whispered, "Do you think you could be transferred?" I had no idea.

Sister Sahm read the names of the stakes that would eventually move to the Taylorsville and Tooele temples. Then she said, "....and the following stakes will be transferred to the Jordan River Temple: Bluffdale and Bluffdale South."

Stunned, I spoke quietly to Tess: "I'm leaving. I'm going back to Jordan River."

It felt surreal. Like one of those "full-circle" moments. Fortunately, I had a full year to process this information and prepare for the change. Last Saturday, April 20th was my last day serving as an ordinance worker in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple. I had spent the previous couple of weeks training a new Endowment Coordinator, so this final day I got to work a normal line assignment, taking me to numerous posts all around the temple, saying goodbye to the many people I would no longer see. And of course I wasn't the only one saying goodbye; there were many quiet, heartfelt glances; sad eyes; and gentle hugs. I was especially grateful for one last opportunity that day to serve in the baptistry; that is the post I'll miss the most. 

Those of us moving to Jordan River have the month of May off. We aren't allowed to begin serving at Jordan until the Taylorsville Temple is dedicated June 2nd. My first day at Jordan River will be Friday, June 7th. And yes, I'm excited! I'm stoked to be returning to my original temple, where I was trained, where I first administered the ordinances. I look forward to reuniting with a handful of people I remember and who are still serving on the Friday afternoon shift.

But the flip side has left me with a few tears welling behind my eyes. Farewell, my "Saturday afternoon friends!"

Maybe one day it won't matter,

But right now, it hurt a little.

Dissoi logoi: A "truthier" truth

It was over halfway through the Sunday morning session of General Conference nine days ago. I sat in my bed (pajama church for the win!) tears streaming down my face. I had just listened to a message from Elder Patrick Kearon, the newly called and sustained apostle for our church. All weekend I had waited for his talk, but no, I had no idea the intensely emotional effect it would have on me.

As he said, Amen, I whispered quietly through my tears, "I think I have a new favorite apostle."

But no, Elder Uchtdorf, don't you worry! This blog is still named after your October 2013 General Conference talk, "Come, Join with Us." You are still my favorite. Although it takes a bit of an elastic approach to the literal meaning of "favorite," I often say that I'm God's favorite. I truly feel like I am. (Even though I know, of course, that everyone else is too.) That's just the nature of our Heavenly Parents and our Savior; we are all their favorite.

It's like when people ask me which of my five children is my favorite. I usually say, "Whichever one I'm with at the time!" And in the rare event that they are all five with me at the same time, or in the wonderfully frequent event that four of the five are, then they are all my favorite! Though I am still miles away from living the kind of life our Heavenly Parents live, I feel like this is the one way I come closest, and I'll take it! Elder Uchtdorf didn't get replaced as my favorite apostle; he just got a new friend with whom to share the role.

It was Elder Kearon's first opportunity to speak as an apostle to the entire worldwide church, along with anyone else who might be listening. And what did he choose to talk about? Jesus! The radical grace and transformative love that Jesus extends willingly to everyone, every single person ever born, without exception. No barriers. No barricades. No desire to keep anyone out. "No one has built a roadblock and stationed someone there to turn you around and send you away. In fact, it is the exact opposite. God is in relentless pursuit of you."

Huh. Relentless. Well that is good news, indeed, considering sometimes I can be pretty hard to catch. I think it's easy for us to misinterpret certain parts of scripture and come to believe that we must do a bunch of stuff in order to qualify for God's mercy. But if we had to do stuff in order to qualify for mercy, then it wouldn't be mercy! The very essence of mercy is that it's given freely and with no strings attached. Now in case anyone reading this is shouting, "What about James 2:17! 'Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead...,'" let me clarify. 

The difference between trying to earn grace and living in response to grace, though subtle, is very real. It involves purpose and tone, why we do the things we do and in what spirit. Do we walk the covenant journey, turning back to God when we wander, because we love our Heavenly Parents and our Savior and desire to live in harmony with Them? Or do we do it to display our righteousness and lift ourselves higher, which often leads to judgment?

Elder Kearon taught us that "God wants for us a radical reorientation of our selfish and prideful impulses, the eviction of the natural man, for us to 'go, and sin no more.'” This desire is completely inclusive. As he spoke these words, I couldn't help but think of Nephi's teaching that "there are save two churches only; the one is the church of the Lamb of God, and the other is the church of the devil” (1 Nephi 14:10). To me, that means that everyone, whether they know it or not, whether they understand it or not, is part of the church of the Lamb. Elder Boyd K. Packer taught way back in 2004 that "...everyone, no matter where they live or what they believe or what they do—has within them the imperishable Light of Christ."

Everyone. Christians and those of other faith traditions, believers and atheists, those who have never heard of Jesus and those who strive with heart and soul to follow Him. "Everyone" is a universal symbol of inclusion. If Nephi and Elder Packer are correct, then only the tiniest, most infinitesimal number of folks who truly worship evil and seek to perpetuate it make up the church of the devil; everyone else is part of the church of the Lamb of God, guided by that "imperishable Light of Christ."

When we understand and acknowledge that everyone we meet is part of Christ's church, we're less likely to cling to tired and exclusive language like, "I know this is the only true church on the face of the earth," which inaccurately, yet often convincingly, implies that ours is the only church with any truth at all. Instead, we seek for common ground, mutual appreciation, and a desire to learn and progress together with those of other faith traditions as well those with no faith tradition at all. To use a fave LDS phrase, "With real intent," we seek to learn from others around us, regardless of their background, lifestyle, religion, political affiliation, culture, race, gender, or sexual orientation. We recognize that their truth might add to and strengthen our own. 

In doing so, we engage in a process the Greek's called "Dissoi logoi." I teach this to my Intermediate Writing and Rhetoric students as they prepare to write their final essay, one traditionally referred to as the "Argument Essay." In their past educational experiences, most were taught that their goal for this "argument" genre is to make a statement of opinion backed up by claims with evidence to support them, then acknowledge counter-arguments, with the sole purpose of shutting them down! As we lean into Dissoi logoi, we seek instead to find common ground with those who hold opposing viewpoints, double arguments so to speak, as we ask ourselves "What elements of truth can I find within these opposing viewpoints that would bring all of us to a "truthier" truth?"

How cool is that!? 

And how can we apply it to our intentional, ongoing study of the gospel of Jesus Christ?

So what were my takeaways from last weekend's General Conference? There were many, many, but I will share a few as I conclude:

• The covenant journey is worth the struggle of every step, because the Savior of the whole world wants to walk that covenant journey alongside me. I'm His favorite.  
• I have a new favorite apostle. His is name is Elder Kearon, and he preaches Jesus, Jesus, and more Jesus, with the coolest British accent, and he's also hilarious ("Behind every new Apostle stands an astonished mother-in-law.")
• Elder Uchtdorf is still my favorite too.
• The guy who spoke following Elder Kearon had the most challenging position of the weekend, and he totally crushed it. As Elder Kearon concluded his remarks, Gerald said something like "I wouldn't want to have to follow him." I'd be lying if I said I agree with that statement, because speaking in General Conference would be like a fairy tale dream come true for me, regardless of the speaking order, but I did understand Gerald's sentiment. 
• Oh, and the guy's name, the one who spoke after Elder Kearon, is Elder Brian K. Taylor, and his tender teaching on how, even in times of intense adversity, we may be "swallowed up in the joy of Christ" was freakin' on point! No downplay of the tragedies and pain mortality brings. No "Everything happens for a reason" babble. Just the testimony that the right answer and the only answer to life's tragedies is Jesus.

It is always, always Jesus.

You don't have to be Nephi.

Don't get me wrong. I like Nephi. I really do. He exhibits tremendous faith and unparalleled perseverance in the most dire circumstances. The thing is, I keep waiting for him to be human, to make a mistake, to doubt his faith, to do anything that isn't absolutely perfect. 

As a result, I find myself relating far better to Laman and Lemuel than I do Nephi. I can connect with them; they seem real. Cuz I make mistakes all the time. I doubt my faith. I lack the emotional strength to make hard decisions. I doubt some more. I am quick to take offense and slow to forgive. I am self-absorbed and insensitive to others' needs. I am judgmental. I gossip. The list goes on. Does Nephi share any of these struggles? We don't know.

Now to cut Nephi some slack, keep in mind that he is the one writing the story. I suppose if we were writing our own stories, we'd present ourselves in the most positive light. It makes sense. And if his purpose is to bear testimony of the divinity of Jesus Christ and God's eternal plan for our happiness, he does a fabulous job! As I've prepped for "Come Follow Me" lessons in 1st and 2nd Nephi these past few weeks, I've been renewed with spiritual strength as I've pondered the love of the Savior and the lengths he'll go to in order to be exactly that. Nephi preaches Jesus eloquently, and I have feasted upon his words these last couple of months!

But fortunately, I don't have to be Nephi in order to receive Jesus' love or to be transformed by his grace as it pours freely over me and my life. And neither do you. You can be Thomas, the doubter. You can be Peter, the denier. You can be Paul, the persecutor. You can be Alma the Younger, the wicked doer. You can be the Woman at the Well, Laman and Lemuel, even David, the murderer and adulterer! Not that you should be, of course. Absolutely don't do those things! But the point is, God uses imperfect people to do great work, and Jesus loves us and saves us no matter what. Jesus doesn't love us because we're good; Jesus loves us because he is good. And he's already paid the price for our salvation. He reaches out with arms wide open and says, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).

I fear sometimes we forget this. Or we're misguided by an incomplete or inaccurate reading of specific scripture referencers taken out of context. For example, the second part of 2 Nephi 25:23: "...for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do." This could lead us to feel like we have to work hard to earn our salvation, or (worse!) that Jesus will only help us after we've expended every last fraction of our time, effort, and energy trying to solve our problems ourselves. Nothing could be further from the truth. I mean seriously, what did Paul ever do before Jesus jumped in to rescue him on the Road to Damascus? Or the woman caught in adultery? Or the thief on the cross? Or countless others? Jesus wants to enter our stories in the middle of the messiness, in the utter chaos that is our lives, in the midst of doubt, fear, bad choices, and confusion. I think that's where He does His best work! 

So what about that scripture in Nephi? Some tell me that the word "after" actually means "in spite of." "...for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, [in spite of] all we can do." I like that a little better. The phrase "in spite of" suggests that we can never do enough, and that is certainly true. Humans could spend 100+ years striving to do all they can, failing miserably, and forever stressing over whether they've done enough, while the answer is right in front of them: knowing the "source to which they may look for a remission of their sins" (2 Nephi 27:26). 

A second way to look at 2 Nephi: 25:23 (and my favorite!) is to consider it in the context of its surrounding narrative. I just stopped writing this post and counted the number of times Nephi counsels his audience (us!) about what they need to do in order to inherit the Kingdom. He exhorts his readers to "believe in Christ" or "believe on His name" 10 times, just in the handful of verses surrounding verse 23. It seems pretty clear that "all we can do" is believe in Christ. He is the eternal enabler and the only One capable of healing the broken, redeeming the lost, and empowering the willing.

And that kinda leads to a final thought regarding the well-known verse in James 2: "...faith without works is dead." Indeed, we cannot earn grace. God's grace is fully undeserved and, in fact, already ours! What we are called to do is to live in response to grace. I witness this all the time, don't you? It's manifested in the goodness of fallen, imperfect people, in our church, in other churches, and in no church at all. John 1:9 teaches that Jesus "was the true light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world." When a child comes running full speed to pet my dog and delights in the joy of animals, I see it. When a young man takes his great-grandma's arm and helps her into her home, I see it. When citizens attend their precinct caucus meetings and actively participate in the process to shape government, I see it. When a sleep-deprived mother gets up for the 14th time in the night to comfort her infant, I see it. All these and countless others are examples of imperfect people responding to the light within them.

So back to Nephi. Dude, I look forward to meeting you one day. I want you to tell me the stories of your life, including your struggles, your mistakes and what they taught you. I wanna know you're human. And I want to thank you with all my heart for writing the record of your experiences and your steadfast testimony of the God I know: the God who saves, the God who weeps, the God who rescues, the God who enters our stories wherever we are, the God who offers radical grace, and the God who loves with might greater than we can possibly comprehend.

The Son shone brightly this Easter morn!

For those of us in the Salt Lake Valley, it's been a long, hard winter. Yes, I lived in Montana for seven years, where winters could be even more challenging, but in my 12 years here in Utah, I've never experienced such relentless cold or never-ending snow. Every time we dared to think "Maybe this is the last big storm," another arrived. As recently as last week, we had over foot of new snowfall, closing our local school district yet again and triggering my driving anxiety. Yet again!

But this Easter morn, the Son shone brightly!

Guys! It is such a beautiful day! As I walked into church, wearing a short-sleeved dress and no coat, I couldn't help think about the first Easter morn, when after three days of what must have been crippling grief, Jesus's followers awoke to a beautiful day. Their Lord had risen, culminating the most miraculous event in human history, and the most impactful. The Son shone brightly that Easter morn.

....as it does today. For us! Easter reminds us that hope is ours for the asking. It is freely given, and received by anyone who desires it. 

Even after the snowiest winter, because of the Son, the sun will shine again.

Through the most tumultuous storms, whether literal or figurative, because of the Son, calm will come.

They say time heals all wounds, but that is not true. Jesus heals all wounds. Absolutely all of them.

Not that I'm wishing time away, because I'm definitely not. I actually find myself regularly wishing time would slow down. But I do look forward with excitement to the end of this year when we get to study the extremely cool book: The Revelation of St. John the Divine, which includes one of my most favorite references:

"And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it" (Revelation 21:23-24).

You know, had Easter come any earlier this year, we would have had some snowy Easter egg hunts. And that would have been just fine too because, as the above scripture promises, we have no need of the sun to lighten our lives, if we invite the Son to do so. 

Still, I like to think God looked down upon all of us here in the valley, and with infinite grace, sent us spring, just in time for Easter.

The Son shone brightly this Easter morn!

I am grateful.

(Early Happy Birthday to our favorite Isaiah, who will be working in Las Vegas next week on his actual birthday!)

Tears of Sadness

Let me begin by saying that, for me, this was the best General Conference in recent years. The Palm Sunday/Easter focus, the outreach/gathering focus, and most importantly, the cumulative Christ focus were unparalleled. I sat for nine hours and soaked it in. Every word, every hymn, every prayer pointed me closer to the Savior and His infinite love. I closed out the weekend feeling joy, hope, and inspiration to go forth and do His will.

Saturday evening, Amanda, Eli, and I watched the session together in our basement. That's where we have the biggest, nicest TV, a cozy sectional couch, warm blankets, and soft lighting. Snacks in hand, we gathered to listen and learn. 

During the final talk, I noticed tears in Eli's eyes. He was fighting hard against them, but come they did. I had no idea why. When the talk ended and also the session, Eli declared: "That one really got me."

"Why?" I asked.  

The talk by Elder K. Brett Nattress of the Seventy began with his testimony that our Heavenly Parents and our Savior love us and always remember us. Then he asked, "Do we always remember them?" He followed up by telling the story of a young man he once knew. Danny had been raised in the Church, and at some point got lost in the chaos of drug addiction, particularly methamphetamine. His life spiraled out of control for awhile, but ultimately, he chose to get the help he needed to overcome this challenge. At one meeting with his bishop, the bishop said, "Danny, I think we should talk about preparing your papers to serve a full-time mission."

Danny: Oh, Bishop, I would love to serve a mission, but you know the things I've done. I'm afraid I've lost that opportunity.

Bishop: Well, I don't know for sure, but let's try and see what happens. If it turns out you are excused, you will know that your desire was to serve the Lord, and you did all you could.

A few months later, Danny received a letter in the mail from the First Presidency of the Church with his call to serve a full-time mission. He served faithfully for 24 months, returned home, married, and is now raising a family of his own in the Church.

This was a touching story of the absolute central message of the gospel, and it warmed my soul to hear it; however, I still didn't understand why it had been such a trigger for Eli, whose story was nothing like Danny's.

He proceeded to explain.

"Mom, all I could think about was my friend Jack [name changed]."

Jack, too, was raised in the Church and became sidetracked during high school with alcohol and marijuana. Like Danny, Jack eventually decided he no longer wanted that life; he wanted to change! He went to his bishop for help and told him that one day, he would like to serve a mission. The bishop's words stung this young man to his core:

"Oh, you won't ever be approved to serve a mission, after your behavior."

I watched Eli's heart break for his friend, whom he hasn't seen in a decade. I, as well, have fond memories of Jack, transporting him and Eli to and from sports events and choir activities during middle school, seeing him at church occasionally, though he wasn't in our ward. My heart breaks for him all these years later.

I'm grateful for bishops like the one Elder Natteress described in his talk, one who believes in the healing, transformative power of the Savior's atonement; one who tries to love as Jesus loves; one who looks at a kid and sees his divine potential, rather than his past mistakes. We have a bishop like that in our ward. One of his favorite lines is "You can't mistake your way out of the redeeming love of your Savior."

I'm grateful for bishops like that.

"For the Strength of Everyone": My thoughts on October, 2022 General Conference

It's been three weeks since General Conference, and I'm only now drafting my post about it. Why the delay? Like everyone, I'm busier than I'd like to be. My dream world would include limitless time to read, write, and walk, but alas, household responsibilities and a job worm their way in, and rob me of my precious reading and writing time. (I'm a fanatic about walking; nothing impedes that.) I also needed time to think about what I would say, time to process the talks and focus on what resonated most with me as well as reflect on their significance to the world at this time. This process continues indefinitely, but I think I'm ready to put words to a few of my thoughts.

First, I so loved Elder Bednar's talk on "The Parable of the Wedding Feast." Exegetical discussion of scripture is my favorite, and Elder Bednar did a fabulous job explaining the spiritual truths in this parable. I was mesmerized! To be "chosen" is NOT an exclusive status. We all can "choose to be chosen," as we honor our covenant relationship with God. Hooray!

I was also grateful for Elder Renlund's talk as he reminded us that "with the help of the Holy Ghost, we can transform ourselves into the beings God intends us to be." Consider the power in those words! The covenant relationship that began with Abraham and Sarah and their little family so long ago is now ours. It is personally transformative and the sole means by which we realize our divine lineage and potential. Elder Renlund was also clear about our sacred responsibility to seek and receive personal revelation for our lives as we move through our own covenant journey: "Leaders may guide and give counsel, but choices and decisions belong with us." Woo!

Happiest of all was I, when Elder Uchtdorf announced the revised "For the Strength of Youth" pamphlet. Truth be told, I have always disliked that particular document, so much so that I basically ignored it as I raised my teenagers and considered it only slightly when I served in a Young Women's Presidency. The rigid rules and legalism in the former version of the pamphlet did nothing to strengthen my testimony, deepen my conversion, or help me feel yoked to my Savior, and if I felt that put off by the language and tone, imagine how our sweet young men and young women might have felt.

But guys!!! This new one is splendidly different! It doesn’t make choices for us, but focuses on the "doctrine, foundations, and values" to guide our choices. It points our youth not so much to rules but to the only source where they can find true hope....their Savior, Jesus Christ. "And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophesies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins" (2 Nephi 25:26).

Time with our youth is limited and so precious. Shoulder shaming our adorable young women and preaching againt tattoos to our awesome young men seem like sad and unproductive uses of that precious time. Surely there are other principles more worthy. What if instead we asked them to reflect upon what living a covenant life might look like, knowing it will look different for each of us? Or what if we asked them to consider what they already know about the character of their Savior and how remembering His goodness and power and love might sustain them in the darker periods of mortality? Or what if we shared how we have used His healing atonement in our own lives to carry us when we couldn't walk on our own?

Surely discussions such as these would strengthen our youth and nurture their conversion process way more than inconsequential, culturally-specific stuff like hemlines, earrings, tank tops, and tattoos.

This revised pamphlet refocuses us on the only true source of strength: Jesus!

And that, my friends, is "For the Strength of Everyone!"

"Stay for the whole feast, even if you're not sure about the broccoli."

It was my favorite line from General Conference.

I didn't get to hear it live. I was at a baby shower for a dear friend on Saturday and then busy all week with teaching and end-of-semester grading. It wasn't until four days ago that I blocked out some time to watch both Saturday sessions. My two favorite talks came one after the other during the Saturday afternoon session: first, Elder Jeffery R. Holland's "Fear Not: Believe Only!" followed by Elder Patrick Kearon's "He is Risen with Healing in His Wings: We Can Be More Than Conquerors."

Yesterday, I substituted for a seminary teacher at Mountain Ridge High School Seminary in Herriman. As I took roll, I asked students to give me their favorite line from General Conference, not their favorite talk, but their favorite line. One cute sophomore mentioned a line from Elder Andersen's talk: "Peacemakers are not passive; they are persuasive in the Savior's way." She explained how she tries to be a peacemaker within her group of friends, not by withdrawing from their drama but by seeking to bring the light of Jesus into the chaos, through her own calmness. Another young man shared a line from Elder Bednar's talk "But We Heeded Them Not" and explained that he relies on the Holy Ghost to bring clarity to his judgment as he seeks to "heed not" various temptations in his life. Are you impressed? Same. Teenagers are so much better than us at zeroing in on the truth, raw and real, and its relevant applications. That's why I jump at the chance to teach seminary whenever I can.

My personal favorite line from Conference weekend came from Elder Holland's talk and became the title of this post. Let me first explain that I hate broccoli. Really, I do. I wish I liked it because it's high on every single list of food that's good for us. But alas, the smell is enough to turn my stomach, and even raw, I think it's gross. So Elder Holland chose the perfect vegetable for his beautiful metaphor. Surprising? Nope. He is a rhetorical genius.

But why this line? Well you see, I plan to stay for the whole feast. I'm not going anywhere. I'm all in. That doesn't mean that I don't ever have questions, doubts, struggles with doctrine, sometimes even struggles with the way our leaders interpret the doctrine. I am human, blessed with the capacity to think, to wonder, to speculate. I study. I pray. I seek answers. I search out revelation for my own life. I don't always receive it, but sometimes I do, and for both outcomes, I am grateful. The latter gives me clear direction, and the former challenges and strengthens my faith.

I am blessed with the opportunity to serve in the Jordan River Temple every Friday afternoon as an ordinance worker. Our shift coordinator always opens our prep meeting with "Welcome to the best day of the week!" Oh, she is so right about that. There is nothing better than being in the temple. A couple weeks ago, I sat in the temple cafeteria during my 20-minute break and listened to a discussion between two older sisters. Addressing the importance of heeding prophetic counsel, one sister commented, "In my family, when the Prophet speaks, the discussion ends." This sweet sister has taught me much in the time I've known her, but this comment left me confused. Troubled even. Because in my family, when the Prophet speaks, that's when the discussion begins! That's when we start the process of pondering and praying to understand what his counsel might look like in our individual lives. It will look different for each of us, because we are different. Sometimes we process the Conference talks by ourselves, in our own ways and in our own timing. But oftentimes, we share our thoughts, either in person or in family text threads. I love learning from my children, hearing their perspectives on the messages. Yes, when the Prophet speaks, the discussion begins!

I'm grateful for a gospel that honors my moral agency, one that doesn't ask me to blindly obey, but to search and study and struggle on my own, with my family, and with my ward family. Wrestling with scripture, as well as with modern-day counsel and revelation, is what leads to increased depth and breadth of understanding. We don't understand everything, and I don't think we ever will in this mortal journey. And that is okay. The process of becoming who we are meant to be is long, and not without hills and valleys, mountains and seas. But be assured; we are promised everything! We are promised all God has, if we will do our best to be faithful and endure. As we study "Come Follow Me" this week, let's look at what the God of Israel promises. Humor the English teacher for a second, and look at the verbs: 

The God of Israel will fight for us (Exodus 14:14), provide for us (Exodus 16:4), heal us (Exodus 15:26), and fill us full (Exodus 16:12). The God of Israel promises to always be with us, and ultimately, to deliver us. Through a covenant with one little family, nations are blessed. Through their faithfulness, the gospel of hope springs forth and floods the earth.

Yes, Elder Holland. I will stay for the whole feast, even if I'm not sure about the broccoli.