This Life Is Meant to Be a Kingdom, Not Just a Cross

A belief in the afterlife can have negative effects. Some people seem to disengage from this life, banking on a promised post-mortal future to bring peace and happiness. They don't enjoy this life or attempt to make a real difference in the lives of others, because they don't see this life as anything more than a temporary test. Many of these people are instantly recognizable in church because they speak about "the world" as being an outside entity against which they are pitted in battle for their very souls. These are people clinging, white-knuckled, to the tightrope of life just inching along from one side to the other. They see the platform on the far side of the rope and that is all they see. Mortally afraid of falling, they never risk loosening their grip, and if they do slip, even a little, they are nearly paralyzed by fear that they will never reach the safety of the platform. Theirs is a constricting life. 

This view of heaven, as an escape, is a miserable degradation of what the Gospel actually teaches. The gospel is Kingdom and Cross. In other words, it isn't just about salvation from eternal hell (Cross) but about building a life now that's worth living forever (Kingdom). We are supposed to be fashioning a new garden in this lone and dreary waste. It's the sweat of our brow and the struggle to bring new life to this place that we are charged with. In this kind of gospel-centered life, the walk across the tightrope becomes a divine dance through the air. The platform on the other side, just like the platform from which we stepped out into the spotlight, is not a goal to be reached by the timid but an anchor whose existence is essential in creating the space where the most brilliant performances play out. 

This is not to suggest that I don't believe in post-mortal existence. I do. But I don't believe it's an "after" life.

It's just life.

The continuation of our divine dance.

The Danger of Living in the Past: A Principle for Personal Consideration

I was watching a TV show with one of my daughters a while ago, and the following was a line that I want to share. It has a lot of applications to faith (too many to try to list here), and it highlights one aspect of my own philosophy that is important to me:

When you live in the past, you lose the present.

It's not easy - not at all - to let go of many aspects of the past (and the bitterness that accompanies some of those aspects), since they contributed to the present in real and tangible ways - and it's not healthy to let go of the past in lots of ways, but it's really important not to live in or obsess about the past (whether that is one's own past or a communal past). All we have is the present, and the only healthy objective is to make the best on-going present possible. Living in the past is perhaps the best way to not allow that to happen - to limit in a very real way the growth that is possible by letting go of the past.

Again, this is applicable to lots of aspects of life, and I am not going to try to make a list. How it applies will vary from person to person, so, as the title says, this simply is something to consider.

The Only Way I Can See Life As a Test

I have no problem with the idea that life is a test - but I define "life" as "eternal life" or "existence", and I define "test" as "learning process" or "growth experience".

 In that sense, I'm okay with seeing the events in our lives as tests - but I do so more in terms of "evaluation-providing (for correction and growth)" rather than "grade-producing (for final status)".

As an educator, I don't like the traditional model of instruct, test, assign grade, move on. I prefer the newer model of evaluate, design instruction based on evaluation, re-evaluate, modify instruction (if necessary), continue process until mastery is reached.

That version is how I see eternal life, and I think it continues until each person reaches their highest level of mastery possible.

Learning to Hit the Curve Balls

Life is interesting, with opposition in all things.

Much of my life can be encapsulated as learning to hit the curve balls. As I have said in the past, the grandiose dreams of my adolescence and early adulthood lie shattered on the floor around me - but the mosaic we have created from the shards is beautiful and glorious to behold.

I have hit the curve balls adequately thus far, I believe - but I would like a fastball right down the middle this time, if that would provide the ultimate result that would be best.

Perhaps, however, fastballs right down the middle aren't what I need. Perhaps a steady diet of curve balls is my destiny. If so, I am okay with that - as long as what they produce continues to be wonderful and visible in retrospect, as is the case thus far.

Puzzles and Mosaics: Or, God Came to Me at the Unexpected Death of My Daughter

I have a dear friend who shared the following with me some time ago.  I have thought a lot about it since that time, and I love the concept of the mosaic.  I hope what he shared can help someone in some way:

I remember reading an article in the BYU alumni magazine that showed a gap between two points. Overlaid on this were some puzzle pieces of a suspension bridge, but considerable portions of the puzzle were missing. Where the missing pieces had been there was a pencil drawing of the bridge.

The moral of the story is that even if I can't fit all the pieces together right now, I can be confident that there is a "plan" that does fit all the pieces together.

I was unable to re-find the exact article but here is a similar description:

Maybe another metaphor will help - that of an old jigsaw puzzle. The picture on the box is a broad, or holistic, view of some reality given by revelation; but the picture on our box is incomplete (see Article of Faith 9) and unclear in spots (see 1 Corinthians 13:12). Moreover, we are also missing several pieces of the puzzle, and we are not even sure how many are gone. Some of the pieces in our box do not appear to belong to our puzzle at first, and others quite definitely are strays. The picture on the box becomes clearer to us, however, with greater study of its details. The more closely we examine the available pieces and the more use we make of our minds, the more we are able to put together a few pieces of solid truth here and there. We may, of course, put some of the pieces in the wrong place initially, but as other pieces are put into position and as we continually refer to the picture on the lid, we are able to correct those errors. As our understanding of both the picture and the pieces progresses, we gain greater respect for what we know, for how it all fits together, and for what we yet do not know.  (excerpted from this article)

There is a similar metaphor of a tapestry that is sometimes used to explain adversity. The idea is that, from where we sit, the jumbled, chaotic, and painful experiences are as the loose threads hanging on the underside of the tapestry. If we could but see from the Master’s perspective we would see how each thread fits into the master plan. (The Hugh B. Brown illustration of the currant bush is a famous LDS equivalent.)

These ideas seem to indicate that there are not only plans for humanity as a whole but also individualized plans for each of us. When tragedy struck me, I pondered whether this was part of a grand design for my life based on this understanding. Was such a horrible event fated to bring about the maximum divine potential for everyone involved?

This idea did not resonate with my internal compass and I had to discard it. It didn’t seem to make sense that God would smash my beautiful glass and steel structure only to say, “You’ll thank me later.”

A Mosaic is different than a puzzle. A mosaic is a work of art. It may be from pieces of broken glass. It may be of puzzle pieces that were never intended to go together.

Elder Maxwell used the metaphor of a mosaic in one of his talks:

The finished mosaic of the history of the Restoration will be larger and more varied as more pieces of tile emerge, adjusting a sequence here or enlarging there a sector of our understanding. 

The fundamental outline is in place now, however. But history deals with imperfect people in process of time, whose imperfections produce refractions as the pure light of the gospel plays upon them. There may even be a few pieces of tile which, for the moment, do not seem to fit.("Out of Obscurity", October 1984 General Conference)

But it seems to me that he is still using them as puzzle pieces - that there is a master plan and eventually we will see clearly what now we can only see in outline form. He seems to use the refractions of gospel light through the "imperfect" pieces as a degradation of the "pure light of the gospel." I guess in his context he was talking of being tolerant of imperfection in our leaders – but there is beauty in divine diversity.

The following is an excerpt from a talk I gave some years ago.

I can’t speak with any degree of certainty about others, but as I analyze my testimony. I see that the fabric of it is literally made up of thousands of experiences that combine together to form a “witness.” I may not be able to remember most of the moments that have shaped my testimony. Still, all of these instances have left their mark and contributed to the whole. (see also "Testimony as a Process", Elder Carlos Godoy, November 2008) I am left with a tapestry in progress, adding line upon line and thread upon thread, to discover as Jesus said in the Pearl of Great Price – that all things testify of Him. (Moses 6:63) Each little strand in its own way and the whole mosaic together bear record that He is the Christ.

Because our individual testimonies come through varied experiences and at different stages, it is to be expected that there should be some variation and nuance in how each of us experience the Restored Gospel. (See also Elder Donald L. Staheli of the Seventy Saturday, Oct. 9, 2004 ) Elder Uchdorf says, “A testimony is very personal and may be a little different for each of us, because everyone is a unique person.” ("The Power of a Personal Testimony", October 2006 General Conference) 

I feel like I am constructing a mosaic and not a puzzle. I am putting pieces together not because this is where they must fit but because how they look together “speaks to me.” What I'm building is not a map to "what's out there", it is a reflection of what is inside me.

I like the idea of “refractions.” I can imagine divine light shining through my personal mosaic. What a glorious sight. Mine is unique and special, but it is still a valid expression of divine light. Sometimes I feel like a mosaic person in a puzzle church. Sometimes I feel like others are not comfortable with me because I might "color outside the lines" or put my pieces together in non-traditional ways. It doesn't matter that my mosaic doesn't look the same as someone else's.

I do not believe that God planned out the early death of our daughter, but I do believe that he came to me there, amidst my internal pile of crumpled metal and shattered glass, to offer comfort. I believe that He is encouraging me to rebuild as a mosaic. This new structure has no architectural drawing and must be grown organically with heart and mind and spirit. I make no claim that my internal structure is perfect or that I will ever be done building it. I believe that God is willing to bless my mosaic and breathe into my imperfect structure His breath of life. God can work with the imperfections and fill the whole of it with the “pure light” of his immeasurable love. Like light flowing through a stained glass window, the human and the divine come together. This has become my chapel.

A Beautiful Testimony: Puzzles and Mosaics

A friend of mine once shared the following.  I understand why the puzzle idea he describes works for lots of people, but I love the idea of the mosaic.
----------------------------------------------------------
I remember reading an article in the BYU alumni magazine that showed a gap between two points. Overlaid over this, were some puzzle pieces of a suspension bridge, but considerable portions of the puzzle were missing. Where the missing pieces had been there was a pencil drawing of the bridge.

The moral of the story is that even if I am can't fit all the pieces together right now, I can be confident that there is a "plan" that does fit all the pieces together.

I was unable to re-find the exact article but here is a similar description:

A Puzzle
Maybe another metaphor will help—that of an old jigsaw puzzle. The picture on the box is a broad, or holistic, view of some reality given by revelation; but the picture on our box is incomplete (see Article of Faith 9) and unclear in spots (see 1 Corinthians 13:12). Moreover, we are also missing several pieces of the puzzle, and we are not even sure how many are gone. Some of the pieces in our box do not appear to belong to our puzzle at first, and others quite definitely are strays. The picture on the box becomes clearer to us, however, with greater study of its details. The more closely we examine the available pieces and the more use we make of our minds, the more we are able to put together a few pieces of solid truth here and there. We may, of course, put some of the pieces in the wrong place initially, but as other pieces are put into position and as we continually refer to the picture on the lid, we are able to correct those errors. As our understanding of both the picture and the pieces progresses, we gain greater respect for what we know, for how it all fits together, and for what we yet do not know. http://maxwellinstitute.byu.edu/publica ... &chapid=60

There is a similar metaphor of a tapestry that is sometimes used to explain adversity. The idea is that, from where we sit the jumbled, chaotic, and painful experiences are as the loose threads hanging on the underside of the tapestry. If we could but see from the Master’s perspective we would see how each thread fits into the master plan.  (The Hugh B. Brown illustration of the currant bush is a famous LDS equivalent.)

These ideas seem to indicate that there are not only plans for humanity as a whole but also individualized plans for each of us. When tragedy struck me, I pondered whether this was part of a grand design for my life based on this understanding. Was such a horrible event fated to bring about the maximum divine potential for everyone involved?

This idea did not resonate with my internal compass and I had to discard it. It didn’t seem to make sense that God would smash my beautiful glass and steel structure only to say, “You’ll thank me later.”

A Mosaic is different than a puzzle. A mosaic is a work of art. It may be from pieces of broken glass. It may be of puzzle pieces that were never intended to go together.

Elder Maxwell used the metaphor of a mosaic in one of his talks:

The finished mosaic of the history of the Restoration will be larger and more varied as more pieces of tile emerge, adjusting a sequence here or enlarging there a sector of our understanding. 

The fundamental outline is in place now, however. But history deals with imperfect people in process of time, whose imperfections produce refractions as the pure light of the gospel plays upon them. There may even be a few pieces of tile which, for the moment, do not seem to fit. https://www.lds.org/general-conference/ ... y?lang=eng

But it seems to me that he is still using them as puzzle pieces - that there is a master plan and eventually we will see clearly what now we can only see the outline of. He seems to use the refractions of gospel light through the "imperfect" pieces as a degradation of the "pure light of the gospel." I guess in his context he was talking of being tolerant of imperfection in our leaders – that there is beauty in divine diversity.

The following is an excerpt from a talk I gave some years ago.

I can’t speak with any degree of certainty about others, but as I analyze my testimony. I see that the fabric of it is literally made up of thousands of experiences that combine together to form a “witness.” I may not be able to remember most of the moments that have shaped my testimony. Still, all of these instances have left their mark and contributed to the whole. (see also Testimony as a Process, Elder Carlos Godoy November 2008) I am left with a tapestry in progress, adding line upon line and thread upon thread, to discover as Jesus said in the Pearl of Great Price – that all things testify of Him (Moses 6:63) Each little strand in its own way and the whole mosaic together bear record that He is the Christ.

Because our individual testimonies come through varied experiences and at different stages, it is to be expected that there should be some variation and nuance in how each of us experience the Restored Gospel. (See also Elder Donald L. Staheli of the Seventy Saturday, Oct. 9, 2004) Elder Uchdorf says, “A testimony is very personal and may be a little different for each of us, because everyone is a unique person.” [The Power of a Personal Testimony (Oct 2006)]

I feel like I am constructing a mosaic and not a puzzle. I am putting pieces together not because this is where they must fit but because how they look together “speaks to me.” What I'm building is not a map to "what's out there", it is a reflection of what is inside me.

I like the idea of “refractions.” I can imagine divine light shining through my personal mosaic. What a glorious sight. Mine is unique and special but it is still a valid expression of divine light. Sometimes I feel like a mosaic person in a puzzle church. Sometimes I feel like others are not comfortable with me because I might "color outside the lines" or put my pieces together in non-traditional ways. It doesn't matter that my mosaic doesn't look the same as someone else's.

I do not believe that God planned out the early death of our daughter. But I do believe that he came to me there, amidst my internal pile of crumpled metal and shattered glass to offer comfort. I believe that He is encouraging me to rebuild as a mosaic. This new structure has no architectural drawing and must be grown organically with heart and mind and spirit. I make no claim that my internal structure is perfect or that I will ever be done building it. I believe that God is willing to bless my mosaic and breathe into my imperfect structure His breath of life. God can work with the imperfections and fill the whole of it with the “pure light” of his immeasurable love. Like light flowing through a stain glass window, the human and the divine come together. This has become my chapel.

"I am that I AM." -- "It is what it is."

I know quite a few people who have struggled at some point in their lives with feelings of pressure and guilt from situations that were not within their control.  This pressure and guilt were the result of unrealistic expectations about how their lives "should be" - feeling like they should be able to handle things differently and have lives that were closer to "ideal" in some way.  

I understand such feelings, but, in cases where the cause of the struggle is not chosen or intentional, those feelings must be addressed and understood positively and proactively in order for those people to be healed in a meaningful way. 

If that description fits you to any degree, I hope the following helps somehow:

The first thing I would emphasize is that our 2nd Article of Faith says, in my own translation, that we will not be punished for struggling with things we do not choose - that come to us simply as a result of the Fall of Adam, so to speak.  This means that there is no "guilt" attached by God to the existence of those things in our lives - that they are covered automatically and freely by his grace and the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  That recognition alone can be powerful and emotionally healing.  

I would reframe that concept as a clear recognition that there is absolutely nothing "wrong" with struggling with lots of things - simply because you can't avoid them. Just as the best name for God is "I AM", often the best answer to something is simply, "It is". That recognition won't eliminate anything automatically, even the guilt felt right away, but it is important to recognize unrealistic expectations and learn to know when they are hitting "in the moment".

On a very practical note, my wife started writing a weekly blessing list on her personal blog a few years ago. Despite the struggles in her life, which aren't few for her, that has forced her to look back and "count her blessings" regularly. What she has discovered over the past few years is that knowing she would be writing such a post has made her more aware of the blessings as they happen - which has given her the ability to recall them in the moments of hardest struggle - which has given a degree of perspective she didn't have before she started compiling her blessing lists. She still struggles with some things that are her own "thorns of the flesh", but she is able to break out of those struggles more quickly and even avoid them at times.

However you can do it, counting your many blessings and naming them one-by-one is a good idea.

Some Non-Traditional Reasons I Am at Peace

I make goals - but am willing to change or scrap them if life gives me different outcomes.

I have no expectations of myself and others - except effort, and even that can't be judged perfectly.

I don't seek anything from the Church except a place for me to gather, commune and help others grow. Everything else is gravy - and the primary responsibility for everything rests with me.

I try to live my life with a clear recognition that "I am" - so I deal with "this is" and trust life/God to lead me to what will be. An important part of "what is" for me occurs as a result of my church membership, and a huge part of who I am is a result of the paradigm I learned growing up in the LDS Church - but, as I've said more than once, I have been an oddball since as long as I can remember, so not fitting in totally and not being like everyone else isn't an issue for me. I am who I am, and I can testify of how liberating and empowering that is. I am not defined by others, including not being defined by opposition to others.

I simply am, and, for that reason, I am at peace.

Why Does God Let Us Come to Earth, if He Knows What We Are Going to Do?

I have a friend whose 13-year-old daughter asked him the following question long ago:

"Why does God let us come to earth when he already knows what we are going to do (beyond getting a physical body)?"

He asked me how I would answer that question, and I have thought about it off and on ever since then.  The following is my answer as of today:
-----------------------------------
To a non-13-year-old (or a very intelligent 13-year-old), I probably would answer:

I'm not so sure he does know every single thing we will do - and I'm not so sure it matters in the long run, since I think we have much, much longer to reach our ultimate destination than we realize, no matter what we do in every single instance.

Then, obviously, I might have to explain in greater detail - but I might not.

To an "average" teenager, I probably would answer:

Because it's not about God; it's about you and me and everyone else.

Then, obviously, I might have to explain in greater detail - but I might not.

Having said all that, I hope my very first response would be:

I don't know for sure. What do you think? 

Wise Words from a Woman Acquainted with Sorrow

Elizabeth Edwards died of cancer on December 7th, 2010. She said the following a few days before she died - when it was announced publicly that she only had weeks or days left:

"The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered. We know that. And yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human. But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful."  

What a profound statement.  I hope I can say when my time has come that others can say of me that I learned and followed these words in my own life.

Learning to Dance in the Rain

One of the students with whom I was communicating as part of my job a while ago had a tagline for her e-mails that I absolutely love - and I think it encapsulates beautifully and succinctly something that really is profound.

All of us are born into a world of struggle and turmoil - of some sort and to some degree. In the middle of all of that, I hope we can understand and remember something very simple yet profound:

"Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain!!"

To Walk Before God: Two Contrasting Images That Convey One Important Characteristic

Last weekend in my New Year's Resolution post, I highlighted the idea that we are to "walk" blamelessly before God - as opposed to running or sitting still.  This weekend, I am focusing on the idea of walking blamelessly "before God".

The phrase "before God" appears in our canonized scriptures just over 200 times - which should not have surprised me, but it did.  The following general categories are among the descriptions I compiled of what happens before God:

Things"are found" (discovered or found through examination).
We "are brought" (freely or bound).
We do or act in some way.
We confess.
We are changed or become.
We bow or worship.

As I read the references mentioned above, I was struck by something I had not considered previously:

In all of these passages and verses, there are two broad categories into which the descriptions fall.  The first is comprised of those instances where we are brought before God, while the second is comprised of those instances where we proactively, freely act before God.  What struck me quite hard as I contemplated that distinction is that the first category is said to be universal - a moment all of us will have occur as we stand to be judged; the second category, however, does not carry with it a sense of judgment or compulsion of any kind.  The instances where we freely choose to act "before God" present an image of God, in those instances, not being a "judge" but rather a father, a companion, a guide, a friend, a Lord or Master, a mentor, an example, etc.

The act of "walking" before God ALWAYS is presented as something that fits this second category - something that we CHOOSE to do outside of and prior to the formal judgment.  It is what separates the manner in which we eventually will "stand" before God at that judgment ("uprightly" or "with head bowed down in shame") - and it affects most importantly the person we "are" or "become", which, in the end, really is the actual judgment itself.

The image that came into focus for me as I pondered all of this was two-fold - and the first one turned a traditional image completely around for me.  "Before" can mean "in front of" in two very distinct and different ways: first, in front of someone who is behind you; second, in front of someone who is facing you.  I always had pictured the second image (as in standing before a judge), and there is great power in that image, but there also is symbolic power in the first image (being "ahead of" someone else) - and it is that image that was new to me. 

1) In the famous and popular poem, "Footprints in the Sand", the image is one of the Lord walking beside someone and then, during the particularly difficult periods, carrying the person instead.  What I saw as I contemplated the verses I read this week, however, was radically different.  In this image, the person was walking "before" (in front or ahead of) the Lord who walked along behind - listening for directions as to the path to take, avoiding many pitfalls as a result of those directions, stumbling and falling occasionally as obstacles got in the way but rising as a result of the encouragement and strength of the person following along behind, steadily walking and learning and experiencing and "becoming" by walking "before" (in front or ahead of) the Lord.

In "Footprints in the Sand", the person is carried through the most difficult parts of the journey, but in the journey described above the person gains far more strength and ability to navigate those difficult parts of the journey specifically as a result of the assistance he receives to be able to continue to walk and, thus, not just make it through but **overcome** those most difficult parts.

2) I also envisioned someone walking along a path, speaking on a cell phone with someone in front of her - someone who had walked the path already and had turned to face those who were walking that already-walked path.  By turning to face the other walkers, the person had placed them "before" himself - allowing them to face him and be "before him" or "approaching him".

As I said in a couple of my most recent posts, I believe the core factor in our judgment will be how diligently we strive to hear God's words to us and follow them (or to ascertain God's will or path for us and act upon it, for those who struggle with the idea of hearing God's words) - no matter what those words or that will might be.  "Blame" carries a strong sense of acting differently than one knows he should act, since it is commonly understood that we can't "blame" others for things that are outside their control and/or comprehension.  Thus, the image that arose for me this week is one of someone who walks with a listening ear and attempts to walk according to what she hears as she listens.

To have a more listening ear and a more seeing eye (discussed last weekend), and to act according to what I see and hear, are my goals thus far for this month.

To Walk More Blamelessly before God

My New Year's Resolution for the month of April is "to walk more blamelessly before God" - taken from the first sentence of Alma 5:27, which reads:

Have ye walked, keeping yourselves blameless before God? 

As I began to contemplate this question and how to internalize it a little more fully this month, I separated it instinctively into three core concepts:

1) We must walk our life's journey; we cannot sit, nor can we run.

2) We must walk "before God". 

3) We must strive to be blameless in "how" we walk.

I will attempt to address each of these points each Saturday this month and try to wrap them together on the final Saturday of the month.


1) We must walk; we cannot sit, nor can we run.

A number of scriptures come to mind immediately when I consider walking - not sitting or running.  Among them are the following:

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Mosiah 4:27 

And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. 

Ecclesiastes 9:11 

I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all. 

The central idea in these and other passages is that all things must be done with patience at a proper pace - that "enduring to the end" most often is a case of continuing to walk a long journey steadily and humbly rather than sprint to a near finish line.  The interesting thing, to me, is the differing imagery that is employed in these three passages to address the same general topic.  

The first passage (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8) presents an image of someone walking through life at a pace that allows him to look around and see each "time" and "season" for what it is.  There is no rushing around in such a hurry that he misses the signs that tell what he should be doing at that moment.  He literally is strolling and observing - and, thus, acting according to what he observes in relation to his own life.  

I believe the person who walks thus is tune with the things that he sees, is more likely to see all that is put before him and, thus, less prone to miss what God wants of him.   

The second passage (Mosiah 4:27) adds an element of stamina to the first image.  In this verse, the person not only is in tune with what is placed before her, but she also walks at a pace that does not exhaust herself - that allows her to continue to walk without needing to take long pauses but at the maximum pace that she is capable of accomplishing.  She does not walk faster than she is able, but she does walk as quickly as she is able to do consistently for the length of her journey.  Thus, she covers the maximum distance possible for her - regardless of how that distance compares to the distance walked by anyone else.  

I also love the inclusion of the phrase "in wisdom and order" - as it implies, to me, an active and conscious prioritization on the part of the walker.  She acts as an "agent unto herself" - using her wisdom to "order" her life appropriately - again, regardless of how others order and prioritize their own lives.  

The final verse (Ecclesiastes 9:11) adds a truly unique and important element to the discussion.  The first part is a nice restatement of the others. However, the last part is a reminder that there really is enough time for ALL to accomplish what is set before them, if they but continue to walk - AND it emphasized an important disclaimer, if you will.  It is not just "time" that happens to all; "chance" happens to all, as well.  

"Chance" can be nothing more than "luck or fortune" - and that might be a legitimate reading of this verse.  However, given what is stated in the first part of the verse, I prefer to define "chance" as "opportunity or possibility".  With this interpretation, the last part of this verse would read: 

but all have time and opportunity

[In stating it this way, I believe it also is important to recognize directly that, when comparing life to a race of some sort, ALL can "walk" figuratively (since "walk" when juxtaposed with "run" connotes a difference in "pace or speed" rather than "manner") - while all cannot run.]

In summary, my resolution this month includes the commitment to strive to walk with my eyes open, seeking to see and recognize this "time" for what it is - to see the Lord's purpose for my life this specific and unique month.  It includes the need to use wisdom to order / prioritize the activities of this month.  It includes the faith that, if  I strive to walk in this manner, that there really will be time for me to accomplish whatever the Lord wants me to accomplish, that I really will have the chance to do so - that I truly may be more than I am now when I finish my mortal journey. 

The Meaning and Purpose of Life

1) There is a difference between meaning and purpose, and I think the answers we normally hear about the meaning of life generally deal with purpose instead of meaning. My own answer to the PURPOSE of life would be "to perpetuate the species of 'God'" - or, on a personal level, "to become like God". I then would clarify that the purpose of this mortal life is to learn lessons toward that end which only can be learned in this type of setting - to experience things only this sort of world can provide. 

2) On the other hand, the MEANING of (eternal) life, I think, can be summed up similarly as something like, "a state of existence that allows for change and growth". Humanity simply is one of the manifestations of life - more advanced than intelligences and spirits and animals and plants, but less advanced than resurrected beings, ministering angels and exalted beings. The main distinction, therefore, in the "meaning" of life for mortal (wo)man, is our place in the evolutionary process of becoming godlike - that we literally are spirit children of God , whereas other forms of life observable to us are not. (Whether they ever will be is open to debate, since we know absolutely nothing about the actual process used to create spirit children other than that they are created from "intelligences", but in their current state they are not "children of God".)

3) I think the Mormon take on these questions is radically different than any other Christian take on them explicitly because our very view of "life" (including Godlike life) is so radically different. The Mormon perspective is much closer to the Buddhist concept of a reincarnative journey toward universal oneness than the isolated and stagnant condition taught elsewhere - and that fundamental disagreement makes our answers to these questions incomprehensible to most who view life itself in such starkly different terms.

4) I don't think Mormonism has a "four minute answer" to the question of the meaning and purpose of life. I think we have about a "four second answer". It's the explanation of the answer that takes exponentially longer, in my opinion, since the answer itself is so counter-intuitive and illogical to most people that they simply can't understand it in its simplicity.

1955 - 2009: Prioritizing the Dash

I wrote Saturday about the death of Denny Hazelton, a Bishop in our stake. (A Good Man Gone: Finding Peace) The following poem, "The Dash", by Linda Ellis (edited slightly, 'cause this is my blog - and I just can't help it), was included in his funeral program, and I want to share it with everyone here:

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on a tombstone - from the beginning to the end.
He noted that first came the date of one's birth and spoke of the next date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all was the dash between the years -
For that dash represented the time his friend spent alive here on Earth,
And now only those who love him know what that little line is worth.

It matters not how much we own: the cars, the house, the cash.
What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard. Are there things you'd like to change?
You never know how much time is left that still can be arranged.
If we could just slow down enough to consider what's true and real -
and always try to understand the way other people feel -
and be less quick to anger - and show appreciation more -
and love the people in our lives like we've never loved before.

We should treat each other with deeper respect and more often wear a smile,
Remembering that this special dash might only last for a while.

So, when your eulogy is being read, with your life's actions rehashed,
Would you be pleased with the things that are said about how you spent your dash?

May we look back on life and be happy about how we spent our dash - and may our loved ones, in particular, and the world, in general, be better for it.