It has been a difficult week, to say the least. Like everyone else, I am looking for answers, hoping for peace, praying for our country.

I had a thought, though, this morning. Reading Joseph Smith's History this week, I am struck by the fact that the prologue to the First Vision was that someone lived in complicated, contentious, unsettled times. That conflict launched a question, and that question launched a stunning flood of light that continues to this day.

The message of the Restoration is that God listens, that God is there, that God knows our names. The message is that God gives liberally to all those who ask and seek wisdom.

I don't know the answers to all the things that have me asking and wondering. God, however, does. And the Restoration is a reminder of that. ​

Once when I was a bishop I was meeting with a young couple and their very young toddler. To keep the child occupied, I gave him my keys, which he loved to jingle and play with. During the closing prayer of our meeting, I opened my eyes and looked up in time to see the child had moved a chair and was inches away from sticking the keys into the electrical socket.

I shouted his name loudly and the parents opened their eyes. They shouted too, and we all jumped up, knocking chairs over and creating a huge ruckus.

The poor kid was crying from all the noise and our tone, but it saved his life. Since then, I have really thought a lot about this. Once you start looking, you can see God’s love and mercy everywhere, but sometimes the tone feels a bit like people shouting to save a small child. Anyway, this has helped me reframe and understand things I didn’t used to.

For example, sometimes I struggle to reconcile the god of the Old Testament with Jesus of the New Testament, and always-forgiving Christ of the Book of Mormon with the stricter voice in the Doctrine and Covenants.

Beyond the scriptural record, in my own experience I have encountered over and over a loving Father and a gentle Savior.

So sometimes it is jarring to read something that feels more harsh. In case anyone else ever struggles with this, I believe there is an important key in D&C 19 that helps explain this.

The Lord explains the difference between eternal damnation and endless damnation. It is a pretty stunning chapter that turns centuries of theology upside down in a few verses.

But the Lord says something important to all of us. Why does he use certain terms? “wherefore it is more express than other scriptures, that it might work upon the hearts of the children of men, altogether for my name’s glory.”

His glory is not some sort of vanity. We know that his glory is bringing to pass our eternal life. We also get a glimpse of the cost of suffering for sins.
“16 For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent;
17 But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I;
18 Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink--
19 Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men.”

So, the point of some of the terms and, by extension, I believe, the very strict language he uses is to help us avoid having to suffer as he did, which in this verse, sounds as if it is still very fresh and present to him, even though it’s been around 1800 years at the writing of this verse.
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In this way, God is not unlike a parent who shouts at a child to prevent him from walking into traffic or to keep her from sticking a finger in a light socket.

Did you all see the Christmas star the other night? It made me particularly reflective.

I have always believed in a God who could part seas and calm storms. But as I have come to know him better, I have also come to believe deeply in a God who ministers to us through personal kindness and attention, tender mercies that are often miraculous.

Jesus, after all, worked his first miracle at a private event, turning water into wine. I find this striking because it had no eternal significance. It didn't really even have much significance in the worldly scheme of things. So why did he do it? I can only assume he did this to make someone he loved happy. It was important to the person, and therefore important to him.
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I hope you are all well, basking the glow of gratitude for good gifts, generously given. I have been recovering from knee surgery this past week, so I've not been online much. I've spent a lot of time looking out the front door at a row of trees we have. They were tiny when we first moved to this house. In the 18 years we've lived here those trees have grown enormously and now they form a huge, living wall. In the spring and summer, I spend hours beneath these trees writing.

Every year, these are the last leaves to change color in our neighborhood. In fact, by the time they change, most other trees are completely bare. But every year, the wait is worth it. I look out my door and I see the most amazing tapestry or red, orange, and yellow, with a few hints of green. In the morning when the sun comes up, it glows like a massive stained glass window.

Looking at each leaf is not terribly impressive. They are small and easily overlooked. But taken together, the number of leaves and the variety of colors create the most stunning display.

I've been thinking a lot about gratitude and it struck me that each of our blessings is like an individual leaf: they might be small and not terribly impressive or even obvious. But taken together, they reveal the hand of a loving, tender Father in our lives. Taken together they form incredible tapestries, glowing with a soft holy light.

I think perhaps that's what gratitude does: it makes us conscious of our blessings, stringing together small, individual blessings into a whole that is magnificent and stunning. Gratitude shapes our heart and enhances our vision, allowing us to see and enjoy the breathtaking pattern made by God's individual gifts and mercies.

And like those leaves taking their time to turn, just as we had to wait for years for the trees to grow, sometimes the blessings seem less obvious, sometimes we have to be patient, but the wait only makes the view all the more spectacular!

My favorite verse in the scriptures tells of a God who created a beautiful earth, placing things on it that would sustain life but also gladden our hearts, a God who takes joy in the fact that he gave us things that give joy, but also tells of a God who appreciates our acknowledgement of the gifts he gives so freely (D&C 59:17-21).

Happy Thanksgiving!
​#GiveThanks

​I have been pondering something for a long time, because it's had a significant impact on my life. For years, it was a deeply negative impact. More recently, it's been a potent--and growing--source of joy. I don't think I'm the only LDS to whom this applies, so I'm writing about it in hopes it may help someone else.

It has to do with what we really, deep down, believe about the nature of God, and how we perceive his character, and, consequently, the ways in which we try to emulate and please him.

We are familiar with one of God's earliest commandments, the time he warned Adam: "But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it, nevertheless, thou mayest choose for thyself, for it is given unto thee; but, remember that I forbid it, for in the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die" (Moses 3:17).
This commandment is very clear. It consists of a rule and a clearly-stated penalty.

If this is the starting point for our relationship with God, then we might come to believe that the main or major characteristic of God and our relationship to him is obedience: he commands and we obey. We please him if we obey, we displease him if we disobey.

That's not exactly wrong. There are bits of truth in that. God does ask us to obey. Jesus said that if we loved him we would keep his commandments (John 14:15). Obedience is important, critical--the first law of heaven, according to Presidents Tanner, Benson and Elders Wirthlin at least.

I am not arguing with any of that.

However, there's a way in which good-hearted, faithful people can become so focused on obedience that it becomes an end, rather than a means. If it defines the relationship with God, if that is the main and only aspect, then it also narrows that relationship. And, I believe, it causes us to misunderstand who God is and why he wants us to obey him.

While we speak often of the strict commandment God gave Adam, what I think we don't remember or speak of as often is that it is actually part of a much larger instruction: "And I, the Lord God, commanded the man, saying: Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat..." (Moses 3:16). And this part comes after the Lord described planting a garden filled with "every tree, naturally, that is pleasant to the sight of man..." (Moses 3:9).

In other words, that more strict commandment is true, but in context, it's a modifier for a much more expansive, generous, gentle statement.

In very simple terms, what was the ratio of encouragement to prohibition? How many more trees did God allow--even encourage--Adam to eat than he forbade?

There are two ways to look at God, based on these verses. One focuses on the strictness of God's commands as his primary characteristic. The other focuses on his generosity and goodness, but includes his hope for obedience. If we focus only one the commandment we are fast-forwarding, freeze-framing, and focusing on a fragment.

The entire point of the Restoration was that it was to bring us the whole picture again, to unfold and unfurl the truly infinite and eternal plan of happiness. If the plan is broad and unlimited, how can we imagine the planner to be any less expansive or dimensional. How can God be narrow when the fullness of his work is infinite?

The beautiful thing about the Restoration is that it allows all the pieces to fit. A god who is expansive and generous can still ask for obedience. In fact, a fully dimensional view explains exactly why he wants us to obey: because he loves us! But in this view, obedience is a means, not the end. It is an important part of the relationship, but not the primary, defining element: love is. And from that love flows many things, including his request that we obey him and our willing compliance. Obedience binds us to him and creates a pipeline through which blessings and love and knowledge flow, but no one mistakes a pipe for the life-giving water it brings, or a fiber-optic cable for the data it transmits.

This post is too long already, so I will come back to this later. Part 2 to follow soon! If you don't want to miss it, you might consider subscribing to this blog or, following it on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter.