Angels Landing

I’m afraid of heights. I don’t know why but looking down from very high places has always troubled me. On one particular excursion to the state capitol, my Dad had to carry me up the front steps because I was certain I would fall to my death otherwise. Perhaps it had something to do with being pushed head first off of a stage when I was little. All the same, I have just learned to admit my fear.

A year ago I was invited to go with some young college students to Zion National Park in Utah. It was autumn and the intense summer heat was no longer present. I accepted the invitation, not knowing much about the hike they were planning.

The trail they had in mind, Angels Landing, was supposedly fairly short with an incredible view. The red rock cliffs were beautiful from below. They were so grand and tall that I hadn’t even considered we might attempt to climb them.

Half way up the trail my heart started to pound. We had just left safe inclines and protective cliffs at our sides for a terrifying view of the remainder of the trail. It was breathtaking on more than one point. I recognized that we were about to cross the top of the precipice I had been admiring from below. What I didn’t know before was that the top was really a narrow land bridge. It seemed to be about four feet wide with a 1,400 foot sheer drop on either side.

Suddenly an old adage came to mind. “Fools walk where angles fear to tread.” Yeah, I know - lot’s of people were hiking it, but it still looked foolish. Walking on a tightrope always seemed insane too. Just then a young mother with a small baby strapped on her back came bouncing across like a mountain goat. She seemed completely unaware that there was a life-threatening cliff ready to gobble her up with her progeny. I made no effort to tell her. I just watched with a strange mixture of admiration and contempt.

As the rest of my party started to pass me on the trail, I found myself faced with a difficult decision. “Should I risk my life or just wait here where it is safe?” I considered, debated, and rationalized. This was one time that I wanted to listen to the voice in my head – afraid as it was. But another part of me wanted to see the top. “You will never know what it was like if you don’t go.”

More people passed me in my state of indecision. I took comfort in the fact that I wasn’t the only one negotiating my fears. A number of people had simply sat down, content to watch the others commit suicide. In failing to make a decision, I was deciding to become one of the bystanders.

Finally a thought gripped me harder than my fear. I believed that I could not make it, but did I know? How could I know unless I had tried? If I gave up, certainly I would be safe. On the other hand, nothing prevented me from going a little further. Even if I couldn’t make it all the way to the top, I could do a little more. It was at that point that my mind became clearer. I wouldn’t stop unless something stopped me. I would do as much as I possibly could before I gave up.

The land bridge had a chain rail to hold onto, which I did desperately. After that, the top of the bridge widened and had no chain. I found myself doing a sort of crab walk with my back to the ground. I went a little further then a little further.

After I had crossed the bridge, I faced my next obstacle. At that point the trail went almost vertical with additional chains to hold onto in order to manage the ascent. I again swallowed my fear and began to climb. It wasn’t easy to block out my awareness of the drop below. The key was to keep moving. As long as I was moving I could focus on my footing rather than my fear.

Making it to the top was an amazing accomplishment. My fears kept me pretty low to the ground, but what an amazing sight lay before me! I could never imagine it had I not gone the length of the trail. It wasn’t only what I saw, but what I felt that thrilled me. I had conquered my fears.

I would be amiss if I didn’t acknowledge that I had offered a number of prayers along the way. Father heard me. He gave me the courage to keep going. Even more than courage, He gave me a feeling of persistence that kept me from quitting. Of the two, I think the latter played a greater role.

There are many parts of life that are strait and narrow. Others seem steep and treacherous. Sometimes my challenges seem too difficult to negotiate or too big to tackle. I am grateful for the occasional reminder from the spirit that I am the offspring of God. He is my father. That simple thought gives me courage to try things that seem impossible, especially if I know he is the one asking me.

No one is perfect, but I have a lot more confidence when I know I have done everything I possibly can. I know that Father will help us through difficult times if we seek Him. As the angel, Gabriel, told Mary, “For with God nothing shall be impossible.” I believe this to be especially true in our attempts to overcome our sins and weaknesses. Some may be excruciatingly difficult to attempt, but we can repent through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. He has already paid the price. It’s up to us to begin the climb.

I don’t think I will ever forget Angels Landing. In addition, I have a better mental image of the reward that is waiting if I can ignore my fears and keep going.

Kinda Hungry

Driving home the other day I noticed a little light appear on the dashboard of my car. The symbol of a gas pump was an indicator that I was running low on fuel. Knowing that many drivers are like me, the light was designed to turn on in advance to protect the driver from being stalled on the road. I’m never excited to see the light, especially with rising gas prices, but I am grateful for the warning.

Fortunately I haven’t run completely out of gas for several years. The last time I did, I was lucky to have a cell phone with me. I called my wife and she helped me on the side of the freeway.

The incident reminds me of a parable Jesus told to his disciples about ten virgins who had gathered for a wedding. They were waiting for the bridegroom, but half of them did not bring oil for their lamps. When the bridegroom finally arrived, it was later than they had expected and they were not prepared. The five who lacked oil left to buy more and were not able to attend the wedding. What a sad ending to a happy story, at least for those who weren’t prepared. (See St. Matthew 25:1-13)

I wonder if a dashboard indicator would have been helpful to the five who missed the wedding. Wouldn’t it be nice to have an appropriate warning that you are running low on fuel? Whether it is increasing dusk or an emptying fuel tank, lack of preparation is something that creeps up on us if we are not watching.

The oil referred to in the parable is a symbol our spiritual preparation. This example prompts the question, “Do I have enough faith to sustain me through sunset that may precede the wedding?” The foolish virgins had lamps but chose to ignore the lack of fuel.

Fortunately we each have a low-fuel indicator to warn us. The light of Christ is given to everyone to know right from wrong. The question is whether or not we choose to act. I believe we can recognize these spiritual warnings in much the same way that we receive physical warnings from our body when we are hungry.

My young children have a tendency to become grumpy when they are hungry or tired. Basic functions of the body are strained because the supply of nourishment is inadequate. They compensate by subconsciously diverting available but limited energy away from their good manners to more important priorities.

The older I get, the more I realize that I am no different from my children. My circumstances are more sophisticated, perhaps, but I have the same motivations for comfort and satisfaction that they do.

One difference between me and my children is my ability to recognize what my body is trying to tell me. It’s one of the things that we get with age and experience. When I get hungry, I am quicker to recognize what the problem is. I often feel a need for nourishment before it becomes critical. Quite often I am able to recognize what type of food my body is lacking, be it protein, carbohydrates, or some sort of vegetable. This is simply because I have a craving or appetite for a certain type of food.

Communication to our spirit happens in much the same fashion. Warnings come from the Holy Ghost as feelings or impressions. Instead of the calm peaceful feeling that comes when we are doing what is right, the impression may be that something is missing, or that we are running low on strength. As we learn to recognize these promptings, and act on them without delay, we can keep ourselves properly nourished.

The spiritual fuel we need is that which sustains and increases faith. It is the word of God given through revelation to his servants the prophets and recorded for our use.

The ancient Israelites were given manna daily by God to sustain them. Jesus taught that he was the bread of life and the staff that would uphold us. It is his word that we are invited to feast upon. There are junk food counterfeits that seem to satisfy for a while, but they do not sustain us. Only the word of God will satisfy us and stay with us.

I am grateful for inspired individuals who have recorded God’s word for our benefit. Like the ancient prophet, Nephi, I feel to say, “my soul delighteth in the things of the Lord; and my heart pondereth continually upon the things which I have seen and heard.” He recorded his experiences and inspiration from God so that others could feast upon them as well. Nephi stated, “And upon these I write the things of my soul…. For my soul delighteth in the scriptures, and my heart pondereth them, and writeth them for the learning and profit of my children. (2 Nephi 4:15, 16)

We live in a time when our fuel tends to run out quicker. The opposition to making good choices is increasing. I see many who are looking for a clear direction but are confused about what is right and wrong. There are also those who are quick to offer spiritual junk food in this climate of confusion. Instead, we need to be consistent in providing proper nourishment for our spirits. We need the word of God.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Men have come to speak of revelation as somewhat long ago given and done, as if God were dead. It is my duty to say to you, that the need was never greater of new revelation than now. It is the office of a true teacher to show us that God is, not was; that He speaketh, not spake.”

How blessed we are to live in a time when apostles and prophets still teach us God’s word. They are not just spiritual leaders of ancient history, but are an active part of God’s plan for his children. God still speaks to his prophets and they do in fact still teach his children. One such opportunity is approaching in a couple weeks at a General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints.

Whether it be through scripture recorded by prophets gone before, or the word of the Lord through living prophets and apostles, the word of the Lord is sweet to me. It brings peace to my heart and light for my path.

I know God lives. I know He loves us, and He wants us to know just how much. His words will heal us. They will sustain us in difficult times and increase our gratitude in times of plenty. I am grateful for the scriptures and the words of the prophets. They always satisfy my hunger.

Ready to Run

For most of my life, I have generally hated running. I never saw the point. It seemed like boredom with a faster pace and little reward. Funny, I used to think the same thing about eating my vegetables – there was just too much too quick.

My opinions started to change a few years ago when I realized I had gained weight at an average of about five pounds a year. That was a trend I wanted to make go away. So I changed my diet and started walking.

Within a short period of time I noticed that I felt a lot better. I had renewed energy, and I even felt younger. The place I would often go was peaceful and allowed me to de-stress. Over time I accelerated my pace and increased the distance I would travel. Eventually I found myself wondering, “I could probably go farther if I started running.” Since then, I have worn out the souls of my shoes and have become an avid runner.

“Runner’s high” was a feeling I had not experienced before, but it is definitely worth the effort. I loved it. Once I pushed past the threshold of casual effort and got my “second wind,” It was as though I had achieved a new level of freedom. I felt more confidence, strength, and ability. I could do more and it felt good.

Recently I went running in a canyon not far from my home. The road wasn’t too steep, but there was enough of an incline to get my heart rate up. As I began my ascent, a fortuitous wind came from behind and assisted me up the hill. It was almost as easy as running down the slope. I wish I could figure out how to get that kind of help more often.

Besides running for exercise, I often find myself running from one appointment or task to the next. People in our culture generally do, so chances are that you can relate. Keeping a fast pace with family, work, and other responsibilities can be very tiring at times. In fact I find that I get tired for a variety of reasons that aren’t always the same.

Regardless of the circumstances, the questions I seem to ask most are, “Am I going to make it?” or “How can I do everything that is expected of me.” We all have challenges to deal with. Sometimes, what I need to face them is additional strength. The way I find it is not much different from when I go running.

Have you noticed how dramatic children can be when they have stubbed a toe or bumped their arm on something hard? Yet if you can distract them, they suddenly forget all about the problem. I don’t think I am much different.

One strategy I have used to face my problems is to zoom out and focus on someone else. If I keep looking at my problem under a microscope, it doesn’t get any smaller. The alternative is to look at someone else’s problems and offer them some help. It’s a strange paradox, but somehow it works – my problems often seem less in comparison and I get a fresher perspective. The real benefit comes when I go beyond my comfort level, and a casual effort, to provide some meaningful service.

The Savior taught, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” (St Matthew 25:40) I believe when we are on the Lord’s errand, we are greatly blessed with his help.

Jesus’ invitation to “come, follow me,” suggests that we haven’t arrived yet. We have to leave our comfort zone and become more like him. His call, however, does not stipulate a pace. He allows us to set our own speed. The important thing is to make sure our direction is constant and correct.

I know when we add service to our already busy lives, the Lord blesses us and gives us strength beyond our means. The Holy Ghost testifies to our minds and our hearts that our course is correct. He will also direct us in our thoughts and our efforts if we are listening.

There is a sweet peace that comes when we serve God, and when we serve those around us. It’s another wind that gives us strength. That special gift from the Holy Ghost makes running worth it.

I’ve Heard That Voice Before

I recently received a phone call from an unknown caller. At least that was the information caller ID told me. The conversation went something like this:

“Hey, how are you doing?” asked the voice, congenially.

I paused hoping for recognition to dawn before I was put on the spot. Unfortunately it did not. Wanting to avoid an awkward pause, I replied, “Fine. How are you?”

“Very good,” was the reply. This was followed by a few seconds of silence. “Do you know who this is?” he asked.

I thought I was really close to making a connection but decided to be honest. He turned out to be a friend who lived a couple of streets over calling to ask me for a favor. Instead of suggesting that he brush up on his phone etiquette, I just grinned quietly and agreed to help him. It wasn’t the first time I had started a call like that.

Reflecting on that moment I thought how different the conversation would have been had my mom been on the other end of the phone call. To be honest, I doubt she could disguise her voice from me if she tried. I know her so well that I would have recognized her the moment she spoke. The more I thought about it, the more I was grateful I knew her so well.

Another voice I have come to cherish is that of the Holy Ghost. While I have gotten better at listening for Him, I’m sad to admit that there are still times my recognition is closer to the call from my friend. The difference, in this case, has nothing to do with etiquette unless it is on my part. Sometimes I am simply not listening. Sometimes I allow louder voices to crowd out what the spirit is trying to tell me.

I have learned from my own experience that I sense His voice more as feelings than actual words. The feelings I get are usually accompanied by thoughts or impressions so the communication is experienced in my heart and my mind. I have found this to be a very consistent pattern. If I don’t sense it in both places, it’s usually not the Holy Ghost.

One of the ways I have learned to recognize the Holy Ghost is by asking God for help. As the apostle James taught in James 1:5, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.” I have prayed for guidance from my Father in Heaven and he has answered me through the power of the Holy Ghost. I have asked for spiritual guidance. I have also asked for help on issues at my work or at home. Because of His answers, I know He truly cares and is willing to help.

Sometimes His voice comes unsolicited, but it is always timely. I may not recognize it at first, but this is one case when the pause that follows is not so awkward. It’s usually needed so that I can clearly understand what it is I’m feeling.

What a blessing it has been for me to know that God lives and answers prayers. His voice gives peace, comfort, and assurance. It is unlike any other feeling. I believe he speaks to each of us. If you are ever unsure, perhaps you just need to pick up the phone.

Charity

A few years ago, my family and I were just leaving a theater when I noticed two men approaching from the other direction. I paused from our musings about the movie we had just seen and looked at the men. A quick glance informed me that they were homeless.

Sometimes In the past I have kept small change in my pocket in case a less fortunate individual asked me for money. On this occasion I was reluctant to interrupt the moment with my children. I knew one of the men was about to ask for something, so I averted my eyes and steered my children around them. We were nearly past when one muttered something about “that Mormon family.”

The man’s response was not the one I had expected. I was guilty and it hurt. What bothered me most was not the fact that I had avoided him, but that there was such a difference between us that he and I had judged each other so accurately.

I have since had occasion to reflect on the teachings of the Apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians 13:3, which says, “And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.”

When I was growing up, I would occasionally hear someone say they had given something to charity. I heard this same phrase used only a couple weeks ago. In either case, “giving something to charity” didn’t imply much of a sacrifice. What it really meant was casting off something that was excess or not needed.

The prophet Mormon taught, “charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever…. Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love" which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ.” (Moroni 7:47-48)

Truly following the Savior Jesus Christ means sacrifice. It means loving others unconditionally as Jesus loves them. Charity, which is his love – a purer love – has the power to change lives, and not just touch them.

When I do give more than my excess, a small miracle happens. Somehow I seem to have more, not less. I find that my heart is larger, not smaller. My capacity to love is greater and I truly become more like the Savior. Let’s face it, sacrifice is never convenient or it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. I know that God loves his children. I also know that he allows us to feel some of his love, when we share ours.

I wasn’t much of a good Samaritan that day after the movie. Fortunately, for me, there is still time to change.

Are We There Yet?

A year ago we decided to take a family vacation to Yellowstone National Park. For weeks our family gathered up the necessary supplies to enjoy a nice week-long trip in one of nature’s best parks. We made reservations, outlined an itinerary, and the kids started saving money for precious trinket souvenirs – the important stuff.

The day for our adventure arrived. According to plan, the family was inspected for last minute details. Everyone was fed, the car was packed, and souvenir money was fidgeting to be spent. With our checklist nearly accomplished, a successful early morning departure was immanent. Nothing could stop us… except for the fact that I strained my back loading up an oversized cooler with a week’s worth of food. Nice start, eh?

Once we managed to get on the road, and my back pain eased, the only thing that stood between us and Yellowstone was hundreds of miles. A daunting task with five young kids? No problem. Distance is an easy thing to endure if you have Game Boys, DVD players, or books on disc. We were set.

We had warned the kids in advance, however, that the rules would change once we got close to the national park. Electrical devices were to be stowed down below someplace where we wouldn’t see them for a week.

The idea seemed okay to everyone, but it triggered a very important question. “So where can we buy something?” they asked. The absence of one distraction makes room for another. We reassured the kids that there would be plenty of opportunity to buy souvenirs. This question was followed up by the more predictable of choices, “Are we there yet?” I think we had just left Teton National Park with only an hour to go.

My wife and I quickly realized that we needed a new management plan to keep the masses in the rear seats content. Getting there is not what Yellowstone is about. But the pleasure of being there has a whole different set of expectations. We attempted to steer their interests, with the assistance of snacks. Never underestimate the power of blood sugars.

The first day of driving in the park seemed to generate more time related questions like, “How much longer?” Though Yellowstone Lake, the Le Hardy Rapids, and some sulfuric mudpots were all fairly close to each other, it still took a few minutes time to traverse between them. Our second oldest was most unenthusiastic about the sulfur, by the way. The complaints of how things smelled seemed to lengthen the passage of time.

Over the course of the week our kids caught on that there was more to enjoy and experience along the way. In addition to seeing sites such as the Upper and Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River, Mammoth Hot Springs, and Old Faithful, we began to see elk, moose, bison, and other types of wildlife. We watched for smaller geographic interests such as steam from geysers rising up through the forest trees, or ancient craters of earlier volcanic activity. We even located all but four states in our exotic license plate search. (This added a little incentive when the wildlife was scarce.)

In a place like Yellowstone, the journey is as important as the goal. It gives meaning and accomplishment to each destination. The experience in its entirety adds richness to the memory.

Over the hundreds of miles we traveled on that trip, I couldn’t help but think of our lengthy journey through this life (a thought inspired by our return trip home.) A larger course perhaps, but there are times that I ask myself, “Am I there yet?” or, “How much longer will it take?” I find it too easy for me to focus on where I am going, and not enough time on where I am at.

I would venture that some of our trials in life are like long roads in between amazing views and sites. They can be real opportunities for understanding if we know what to look for.

In my personal prayers, I used to ask Father to help me get over a trial. I used to think of difficult circumstances as something to get past. I really haven’t changed much – I still like to get past them. But now I am a little more inclined to pass through the trial, looking for opportunities in the midst of adversity. Instead, I try to pray for needed strength. I pray for the insight to benefit from the hardship.

For me, this kind of attitude wouldn’t be possible without faith in Jesus Christ – faith that this life is worth the trip, and faith that he can see something that I can’t. It gives me hope that there is beauty all around. I just have to keep my eyes open. With a combination of faith and gratitude, I have found strength to have some amazing experiences. I have seen things that I otherwise would have missed. Not only that, I feel like I know him better because I have seen his hand in my life. Because of the road I have taken, I know God lives. I know he has a plan that will bring us joy forever and happiness while we are here on earth. It is so reassuring to know that he cares and will help us along the way.

On the way home, our kids commented to my wife and me that we had just had the best trip ever. I was glad they saw it that way. I agreed.