I am honored to be here today. Thank you to the administration, the staff, and especially the students of Brigham Young University-Idaho for this opportunity. I must admit that I have looked at the list of past speakers at BYUI, and my admiration for them both personally and professionally has caused me to wonder how I can possibly fit among a group that includes many of my heroes. And that little bit of insecurity has actually led me to the topic of my message today.
Some who study public speaking will tell you never to start with a disclaimer. So with apologies to those who ascribe to that belief, let me start with a disclaimer. I know that today’s gathering is a forum—and not a devotional. And I know from my time at BYU that there is a difference. But as I’ve pondered on what I could share that would be of most worth to even one of you, I’ve come to realize something important. Because my career has been spent working for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, of which I am both an employee and a witness of its truthfulness and the saving power found in its covenants and ordinances, I’m not going to be able to separate the professional from the spiritual. So my prayer is that you might also ponder today how you will allow the spiritual to guide the professional—even if you don’t end up working for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as a career. And as an aside, I hope that each of you does plan on working for the Church as a disciple of Jesus Christ, even if not as an employee. So that’s my disclaimer: any professional insight that I might be able to share is inextricably intertwined with my membership in the Savior’s Church and my witness of the truthfulness of His gospel.
And that has led me to think about career paths in terms of living God’s plan for our individual lives. Does He have a plan for you? Yes. Did He always have a plan for me? Also, yes—but I didn’t see it for a long time. Why? Well, I think it has something to do with the title of my message: “Living the Plan versus Living the Dream.”
Let me tell you about a colleague of mine in the Priesthood and Family Department at Church headquarters. His name is Kelly. He has a lovely wife and six lovely children. He’s smart and capable. Whenever I pass him in the hall or see him in a Zoom meeting, I ask, “Kelly, how are you?” and he always answers, “Living the dream.”
Of course, I know Kelly well enough to know that he’s using that phrase, “living the dream,” ironically. But why is it ironic? It’s not just because having a large family is wonderful but also challenging. It’s also not just because Kelly suffers from some chronic health challenges and just returned to work following back surgery.
I submit to you that none of us are living the dream because “the dream” doesn’t really exist. It is a dream in the sense of being ethereal and unreachable. But don’t misunderstand: my message today isn’t not to have dreams. In fact, I would advise just the opposite—dream and dream big. Set your sights on reaching the unreachable star. But I am saying that dreams should not always be an end in and of themselves. They get us somewhere, but we don’t live in them—they are not a happily ever after. Let me illustrate with two examples.
Example number 1: My beloved sister got into her dream law school, and after her second year (which is the one that seems to matter), she got her dream internship—working in Washington DC in public service, exactly what she had always dreamed of doing. Following her graduation, she got her dream job at the agency where she had interned. Within a year, she left that job for a job outside her field to recover from the damage of living her dream—a dream that had become a nightmare of too many political intrigues.
Example number 2: A few years ago, I helped a General Authority with the editing of a talk he was working on. As we talked about ideas he could use to develop his theme, he told me about how he and his wife discovered a document he had written as a 14-year-old. The document listed the dreams he had for his future life. Those dreams were to have a certain career and live in a certain city. When they discovered that list of dreams, he had that career and they lived in that city. But before long, they knew that those dreams weren’t getting their family where they hoped to go in an eternal sense. They moved. They started again in another state and with a career change. (Let me just say here that hearing that story made me reflect on my what my dreams were when I was 14. I realized that maybe I’m just not good at dreams—but at least they were simple. I wanted my own room and a nice car. I now have had both of those dreams fulfilled. But did that mean I was living the dream? Not even close.)
So do two illustrations of dreams gone astray prove that living the dream can’t be our highest purpose? Not at all. But let me tell you the rest of those stories—why it wasn’t the content of the dream itself that mattered. I hope it becomes clear that some things we love and dream about are stepping stones—not destinations.
My sister eventually returned to the practice of law after a few years of a much-needed break. But she now practices law as the city attorney of a small town on the coast of Washington State—near where we grew up. She wanted to be a public servant on the national stage, but I’ve seen her serve individuals on no stage at all—in fact, in completely unpublicized ways and doing things that no one else likely could have done. When she served as Young Women president in her ward, it was unfortunate yet no coincidence that one of her Laurels needed her expertise with the local court system. Later I watched my sister mentor her legal assistant into becoming a lawyer—something that young woman had never ever dreamed of for herself. Did my sister dream of doing those things? No. But did God know of her capability and need her to do them? I’m almost certain He did.
My dear friends, the couple who gave up their career and chose to move away from their dreams were eventually called into full-time Church service. They have traveled the world and blessed members and nonmembers alike. They have lived and taught God’s plan on multiple continents and in multiple languages. Is there anything more important than that?
My visit to BYUI today is, at least in part, to tell you a little of my own story—how I got to be the director of policy in the Church’s Priesthood and Family Department. So, so many things I would love to tell you about my story just won’t quite work in this setting. So please be patient as I tell you what I’ve learned about living God’s plan for my life through some of the principles that have come to make sense to me only as I’ve experienced them.
First, if God can use me in His plan, He can use you—or, in other words, He has a plan for your life, not just for the life of your roommate or your elders quorum president or me. For you. I promise you. In so many ways, I am many of you—just a lot older. I am from a tiny town in Washington State. (Who is from Washington? Anyone from the Bremerton stake? Let’s talk after.) No one in my family is rich or famous or connected. (Remember that my dreams were to have my own room and a nice car.) Not everyone in the ward where I grew up thought it made sense for me to go to college. Fortunately, though, my parents did, and so off to BYU I went. And to some extent it was there that I found my people—people who were part of God’s plan for my life. I hope you too are having that experience.
But let me back up a little. Part of God’s plan for my life is connected to words.
I’ve loved reading since I discovered the written word and have always been reading a book or six. But I have a very vivid memory of the day I discovered the written word might be my calling. Mrs. Jones, my fourth-grade teacher, was demonstrating the difference between formal and informal writing. Her example of formal writing was very grandiose and poetic. Today I would probably say that it was overwritten. But as she read it, my heart filled with happiness. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL! I hadn’t known that words could create such a reaction—not a story but words. Ironically, I don’t remember what she read. It probably doesn’t matter because the text wasn’t really as important as the beauty and grandness of the words themselves. Oh, how I wanted to be able to communicate in such a way. This is my official fourth-grade portrait—a reminder of my epiphany about the power of words and the role they could play in my life.
Fast forward until my senior year of high school. I was questioning what to study at university, and my counselor had me take an aptitude test. When we went over the results, we both noticed that I have interest both in communication and in religion. She asked innocently, “Have you ever thought of being a pastor in your church?” I laughed because, as you know well, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints doesn’t have a paid ministry or women officiants. So I pretty much decided that I’d major in sociology—because I had no idea what else to do. And I’m not against majoring in sociology, so don’t be offended if you are. It just wasn’t my plan. I hope it is some of yours.
About this same time, however, my AP English teacher stopped mid-discussion one random day and announced to the class, “Jenifer, you are going to be an English major.” I protested that I was not—mostly because I didn’t want to teach, and I wasn’t sure what else you could do with an English degree. Who is an English major here today? Don’t let anyone talk you out of your passion. But her words were not only influential; they were prophetic. I didn’t take an English class my first semester at BYU, and I knew something was missing. Calculus and physical science were not filling my soul—even though they are filling the souls of many of you. By my second semester, I was an English major.
When I graduated, I didn’t feel done with school, so I stayed for graduate work and taught freshman writing classes at BYU. Working on a master’s degree led me to apply for an editing internship with the Church, which led to my 16 years of being a magazine editor at the Liahona—the Church’s worldwide magazine published in about 50 languages.
And then 11 years ago, a department reorganization led to my being asked to take a new position. I cried for a month. The Liahona was my life’s work. How could I leave it behind? But I took a leap of faith and accepted the new job. Eleven years later (and lots more tears, which is a story for another time), I have the amazing opportunity to write, edit, and articulate a variety of messages and work on a variety of products for the Church. I get to sit with senior leadership and help them frame and articulate ideas. And we do so with words! The beauty of which I love with my whole heart.
So how and why did a shy girl from nowhere, Washington, with a bent for religion and communication get to do something so amazing? I have no idea. But I am more grateful than I can share today for God’s hand in my life. And I am eager for each of you to discover His plan for you.
I spent a lot of years at the Church magazines, so I wanted to illustrate these points with some of our classic content. This piece is just to say that words matter. Really matter.
My second principle for living God’s plan is that it comes with hard days—not just days that are annoying or disappointing, but days that sometimes feel soul-crushing. However, I would submit that when you are living God’s plan, those days are actually soul-expanding, even resilience-building. When we live the dream, things stay clean, and everyone wears matching or complementary clothing in the Insta-worthy photos. When we live the plan—meaning God’s plan for our eternal happiness—things get dirty. And things are missing. We may not even have someone to take the photo, let alone to wear the matching outfits we dream of. God’s plan is built on a foundation that we face opposition in all things, even in doing good.
May I share a quote and two scriptures that get me through those days—even when days turn into months and years?
The first is from Elder Glenn L. Pace, a General Authority Seventy. He said:
"Into each of our lives come golden moments of adversity. This painful friend breaks our hearts, drops us to our knees, and makes us realize we are nothing without our Lord and Savior. This friend makes us plead all the night long for reassurance and into the next day and sometimes for weeks and months. But, ultimately, just as surely as the day follows the night, as we remain true and faithful, this strange friend, adversity, leads us straight into the outstretched arms of the Savior."1
Now, my scriptures—and I do claim them as mine for what they mean to me. This one is from the mission of Alma and his companions to the Zoramites:
"The Lord provided for them that they should hunger not, neither should they thirst; yea, and he also gave them strength, that they should suffer no manner of afflictions, save it were swallowed up in the joy of Christ. Now this was according to the prayer of Alma; and this because he prayed in faith."2
And then, from the New Testament: “All things work together for good to them that love God.”3
I mentioned a career pivot just a moment ago. My training, my passion, my love of words, and my ability to tell if a comma is set in italic or Roman type led me to what I was sure was my life’s work—the Liahona magazine. And it wasn’t just me who thought that. So, so much personal revelation had gone into my decision to stay at Church magazines during some rocky times. Making a career change after 16 years was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. But remember what I said about some places being stepping stones and not destinations?
When I took the new job, it was undefined. I had to figure out for myself what it would be, which gave me a great deal of angst but also some freedom to try different things and to meet more people. It also gave me a second chance to pursue something that I’ve sometimes called my “repentance degree.”
I’m grateful for second chances—especially second chances that make me realize that perhaps they were the plan all along. In the 1990s, I did all of the coursework for a master’s degree and then started working for the Church—and didn’t write a thesis. Let me pause here to say: none of you do this! Finish your degree; it makes a difference and is life-changing. But I didn’t take that advice.
So for more than 20 years, I agonized over that reality. I’m sure a day didn’t go by when I didn’t look back with regret. In 2016, I felt a nudge that was essentially this: “Fix it.” So I applied and started school after decades away. I worked full-time-plus and went to school almost full-time for three years, graduating with a master’s of public administration in 2019. And it was both excruciating and amazing. I met some of the best people ever. I learned a ton and remembered that when I believe I can’t do something, my limits are simply self-imposed—not real. And most important, I realized, again and every day, that all things work together for good to them that love God, and our afflictions are swallowed up in the joy of Christ. I’m so grateful to finally have a diploma, but I am more grateful for the spiritual lessons I likely would have gained in no other way. Things did work for my good; they always do when we are living God’s plan—both His eternal plan for His children and His individual plan for you as His child.
I really believed that my master’s degree was simply to heal a piece of my heart that had mourned for such a long time. But I now can see that it was a part of God’s plan. It opened doors, helping me become not only the director of policy but also the first female director in the Priesthood and Family Department.
This caption could actually better read, “How was work today?” with an implied, “Good job living the plan on one of those difficult days.”
My third and final principle for living God’s plan is simple: show up. A few years ago, a woman who worked in another Church department called me. She was an acquaintance, but I didn’t know her particularly well. She asked me the question that your leaders asked me to address today: “How did you get where you are?” And my answer to her is my advice to you. I showed up.
I started working for the Church as an intern. Now, I’m a director. I’ve skipped over a few rungs of the ladder but not many. I had to show up, and some days I’ve had to put up. Just as people have had to put up with me.
When we live the dream, we can simply change the camera angle to get a shot without the messiness of life in the background. When we live God’s plan, we have to stand amid the messiness, do our best work, take backward steps, and then show up again tomorrow, hoping for even the smallest bit of forward momentum.
When this acquaintance, who is now a dear friend, called me, we talked for quite a while about career paths and forward momentum. She confided that she felt stuck in her current job, and I felt prompted to suggest a possible future path. Not amazingly, that path opened up for her about 18 months later, and she now works in one of my divisions after receiving a much-deserved promotion. But to get there, she showed up. She didn’t complain when some tasks seemed below her skill set. And when an opportunity arose, she was ready.
My dear young friends, even when your job isn’t everything you want it to be, especially in the beginning, show up! And by that I mean, show up not only to work but to do your best work. Volunteer. Take the assignments that others don’t want. Be a team player. Have faith. And let that faith sustain you. But don’t miss the wild ride by not showing up.
Your leaders also asked me to share with you some of the behind-the-scenes details of working at Church headquarters. I’m afraid, however, that the things you really want to know, I won’t be able to share or to comment on. But I’d like to share eight things about employment at Church headquarters that I can tell you. You may find that these eight ideas apply at your job. I’ve hinted at the first one.
- Confidentiality is essential. As staff, we don’t get ahead of an announcement by the prophet. He leads the Church; we serve at his request and so don’t share what we are working on or things that we know. He or those he designates announce changes and new initiatives.
- Transparency is also essential. When a policy change or initiative or emphasis or whatever is fully baked, it is shared widely. For example, you might be aware that the General Handbook is now online and is not behind a login. We want you to know how the Church is led and what its policies are.
- Timing is important. Items one and two add up to item three. There is a time for confidentiality and a time for transparency. Before general conference, you can ask me a question about the talks or about a rumor you’ve heard, and you’ll find me to be if not completely obtuse at least amazingly boring. I won’t share. After general conference, I’d love to talk to you.
- Look for the why. In both the General Handbook and For the Strength of Youth revisions, we worked hard not just to teach principles but to teach why those are correct principles in order to help people govern themselves.
- Revelation sometimes happens in the rub. And that is closely related to number 6, which is –
- Revelation is sometimes scattered among many. I love the scripture that suggests that some knowledge “shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven.”4 To me that suggests that revelation will not happen at one time or in one space. It can be spread geographically and chronologically. Because of that truth, and because of their diverse backgrounds and personality, our leaders don’t see things the same way. They don’t move without unity, but that unity often starts with some strong opinions that are not just different but diametrically opposed. Watching those feelings coalesce into a course of action has been one of the great building blocks of my testimony of living prophets.
- God is in the people business. It may seem like you can cut someone out of a project and be more efficient to get the work done. But the work—whether you work for the Church or not—is ultimately to bring about the immortality and eternal life of God’s children. You can’t hurt another and accomplish good. It is impossible.
- Writing matters. Now, I’ve lost some of you who are studying accounting or nursing or whatever. And I’ve lost many of you who believe that you aren’t writers. But hear me out. Most of the good things in my career have happened because of communication skills. And there is no career that doesn’t require writing. We all communicate—often through writing—and we need to do so with a degree of professionalism. And, fortunately, writing is something that can be improved. So take that extra class. Go to the writing lab. Get feedback. I didn’t get my current job as the director of policy because I studied policy specifically. I haven’t. But I’ve worked my entire career to improve communication skills, and that has somehow prepared me to support our Church leaders as they decide on and articulate the principles and guidelines that govern The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
My dear friends, may I leave you with the words of our beloved prophet, President Russell M. Nelson? He doesn’t use the terms “living the plan” or “living the dream” because he says it even better:
"Are you willing to let God prevail in your life? Are you willing to let God be the most important influence in your life? Will you allow His words, His commandments, and His covenants to influence what you do each day? Will you allow His voice to take priority over any other? Are you willing to let whatever He needs you to do take precedence over every other ambition? Are you willing to have your will swallowed up in His?"5
I pray that you answer yes in your heart to each of those invitations. My own life has been richly blessed as I’ve lived His plan—a plan that I didn’t see for myself, couldn’t have imagined, and probably wouldn’t have chosen. In fact, I likely would have chosen a much more traditional path, probably filled with all of the things of which we conventionally dream—especially as members of the Church. I wouldn’t have thought of being a leader in the Church’s Priesthood and Family Department when I neither hold the priesthood nor have a traditional family, so the opportunities that I’ve had could have come only through letting God prevail. He had to have the plan. And I had to make His plan my dream—even with the hard days and the disappointments, failures, and non-matching outfits. That’s the only way it works so that we can walk the path back to Him—which is His ultimate plan and desire for each of us.
If I’ve learned anything from studying the New Testament this year, it is this: When we let God prevail, we give Him all that we have whether it is a long-held dream or a few loaves and a few fishes, and He makes more of it that we can ever imagine. And I have to believe that His doing so is part of the plan.
I leave you with my witness of a loving God, who has a plan for you, and a Savior, who makes that plan possible. Really a plan for you. Please let Them help you find it. Dream dreams and then let them go when needed so you can prioritize God’s plan in and for your life. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
- Glenn L. Pace, “Spiritual Revival,” Ensign, Nov. 1992.
- Alma 31:38; emphasis added.
- Romans 8:28.
- Doctrine and Covenants 121:45.
- Russell M. Nelson, “Let God Prevail,” Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2020.