Good morning, brothers and sisters. Are you having a nice … test?
Elder Neal A. Maxwell, in the April 1985 general conference, cautioned the Saints to be mindful of being casual in speaking about our time on earth. He said, “A superficial view of this life, therefore, will not do, lest we mistakenly speak of this mortal experience only as coming here to get a body, as if we were merely picking up a suit at the cleaners. Or, lest we casually recite how we have come here to be proved, as if a few brisk push-ups and deep knee bends would do.” [1] We are on earth to be proved, or in other words, tested. If life itself is a test, how is your test going? Are you having a nice test?
In that same conference, Elder Bruce R. McConkie said, in words so clear they penetrated my heart and have stayed with me ever since I first heard them when I was a missionary in the MTC, “If we are to have faith like Enoch and Elijah, we must believe what they believed, know what they knew, and live as they lived.” [2]
Elder McConkie’s words describe a hoped-for result of living. Educators call such statements “learning outcomes.” Outcomes guide the purpose and design of tests.
Let’s also consider these words repeated on more than one occasion by our dear Elder Jeffrey R. Holland: "The road to salvation always goes through Gethsemane. ... If we say we are disciples of Christ we walk where He walked, we feel what He felt, we pray the way He prayed and shed the tears He shed, at least in some proportion.” [3] Learning experiences like Elder Holland describes either prepare us for tests or become the test.
In some ways, life is like pursuing a college degree. In both pursuits, learning outcomes and testing invite growth. No wonder many of the prophets and apostles in these latter days have spoken of our religious responsibility to be educated.
You may have heard this quote many times from Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf: “For members of the Church, education is not merely a good idea—it’s a commandment.” [4]
President David O. McKay said, “True education seeks, then, to make men and women not only good mathematicians, proficient linguists, profound scientists, or brilliant literary lights, but also honest men, combined with virtue, temperance, and brotherly love—men and women who prize truth, justice, wisdom, benevolence, and self-control as the choicest acquisitions of a successful life.” [5]
To get an education, we must participate in various learning experiences. Creating learning experiences is the work of instructional designers.
By now, you might be asking, “Why is she talking about learning outcomes, instructional designers, and tests in devotional?” Well, it’s probably because I’m a bit too passionate about the purpose of testing, which is my job, and I think about most things through that lens. But it’s also because I have learned that passion, directed by the Holy Ghost, leads to truth.
My passion to understand testing has led me to know that God is the Master Instructional Designer, and we can trust that every educational experience He designs or permits is meant to help us grow. Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin expressed a similar idea when he said, “Yet in spite of discouragement and adversity, those who are happiest seem to have a way of learning from difficult times, becoming stronger, wiser, and happier as a result.” [6]
Most of the lessons and tests we experience at school and in life are not big finals. That’s because learning and testing aren’t about singular performances. They are about shaping and molding learners into a more refined version of themselves. Much of that shaping comes in small, seemingly insignificant moments. Times in which we often don’t recognize how transforming they are. One example of this that is dear to me, is something that all of us here at BYU-Idaho regularly experience together.
Have you ever paid attention to the remarkable power there is in the tradition we follow at the first of devotional? For a just a moment, the light shines on the audience in this magnificent building chasing away the darkness, revealing our hands unitedly raised in the air, a symbol of our readiness to be taught. It's a simple thing, but imagine how different our devotional experience would be if we stopped doing it? I love the symbolism of that moment when the darkness goes away—as it always must when a light turns on—and then with individual action, we collectively commit ourselves not only to listen, but to participate. Participating in devotional at BYU-Idaho can be a transformative learning experience. It is an action that turns on the light. An act of agency! Now that’s a big power, and one—when exercised with faith—that will always cause the light to shine even in the depths of darkness!
Several years ago, I had a friend who was living through a series of tough experiences. She called me one day and asked, “Do you ever feel like just giving up?” To my surprise, my response to her question was on my lips almost before I had time to hear the question—because sometimes that’s how the Holy Ghost works. I responded, “No, I really don’t because I know this is what I signed up for.” I’m not sure how much that response strengthened her, but I know it strengthened me.
We are here both at BYU-Idaho and on the earth because this is what we signed up for. We volunteered. We chose to be tested. So, I invite you now to ponder your own experiences and again ask yourself, “Am I having a nice test?”
College and life are tough. They’re much more than a few deep knee bends; the required shaping is not “merely cosmetic.” [7] We come to both with faith that our experiences will change us and that those changes will lead us to live our best life now and into the eternities. When we made these choices, perhaps we thought of the result more than of the journey. I know that when I made the choice to go to college, I thought more of being successful than of being tested. Yet college degrees and eternal life are only attained through myriad tests.
In considering the testing that leads to a degree—or to the bigger goal of eternal life—we could get overwhelmed. I think Elder Hartman Rector, Jr., thought about this:
“I learned this lesson from my father at a very early age. My dad was smarter than I was when I was seven years old. Of course, I was smarter than he was when I was seventeen, but that changed later, too. He said to me one time, ‘You are not big enough to milk the cows.’
“Now, I knew I was. I was seven years old, and I knew I could milk the cows. So I proved to him that I could.
“My dad said, ‘You know, I believe you can milk. You’ve got the job.’
“For the next ten years I milked eight to twelve cows night and morning. You may rest assured I got to the place where I did not want to milk, and once I said to Dad, ‘Dad, I don’t want to milk.’ He said, ‘That’s all right. You don’t have to want to—as long as you do it.’” [8]
Elder Rector’s experience highlights the part that agency plays in our attitudes about being tested. For example, keeping commandments can be thought of as test preparation, not mere restrictions. Commandments are exacting because they have a big job to do. They mark the path to achieving a specific outcome: qualify for life eternal. It’s a rigorous program. And in pursuing it, we are commanded to be “willing to submit to all things the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon [us]” [9] and to “be of good cheer.” [10] How are we supposed to do that? How can we submit to testing, no matter how tough, and be cheerful? Of course, we do it by trusting the Designer, trusting that He always keeps His promises, that He will sustain and succor us, and that through His power all things work together for the good of those who love Him. [11]
I would like to discuss three dispositions that I believe will help us develop our power to be cheerful in testing:
- Focus on the outcome
- Be an active waiter
- Be a finisher
First, focus on the outcome.
When we were expecting our second child, nothing went as expected, and ultimately, our sweet, 1 lb. 1 oz. daughter’s heart only beat for a couple of hours because her lungs just couldn’t take in air.
I remember one day sitting in my living room grieving that loss, when these words from Elder Maxwell came: “[True submission brings] the reassuring realization that we are in the Lord’s hands! But, brothers and sisters, we were never really anywhere else!” [12] Then I saw a picture in my mind. It was a young mother, pain and anguish on her face, handing her baby back to the hand of God. [13] At first, that is all I saw, but then I realized where that mother was standing. Do you see it? She is standing in the palm of God’s other hand. And then peace came. I understood that our daughter is God’s and ours because of the covenants we made with Him in His Holy House, and the way to honor that bond was to live for the promises. I could feel cheer even in grief.
Watching your children pass from this life to the next is a unique kind of test. Emma Smith knew this pain five times over. My heart deeply aches at thinking of all that Emma experienced. I recently had the privilege of standing in two different kitchens that were once Emma’s. Both times when I stepped into those rooms, thinking of all that she went through, a deep, powerful feeling entered my heart and mind in these unanticipated words: “I was happy here.” I believe that Emma wants to be remembered as happy. Yes, there were plenty of excruciatingly difficult days, but there were also majestic moments and abiding joy.
Sister Francine Bennion, former member of the Relief Society General Board, once spoke of the celestial kingdom with a group of BYU Honors students. Here are her words:
“‘Tell me,’ I said, ‘what you consider to be the best of all possible worlds.’
“[The students replied:]
“‘It would be like the celestial kingdom.’
“‘What is that like?’
“‘Well, there won’t be problems like we have here.’
“‘What kind of problems?’
“‘Well, for one thing, everyone will be—happy. There won’t be any unkindness. No one there will be rejected or abused, or laughed at, or ignored.’
“‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Are you suggesting that God experiences none of these things now?’
“And then there was silence, for a moment.”
Sister Bennion then offered, “In wanting to get to the celestial kingdom, these students had more awareness of traditional struggle-free utopias than of our own God and our own world. The celestial kingdom was a place to get away from suffering, not a place to understand it and address it in ways consistent with joy and love and agency.” [14]
Sister Bennion’s experience highlights a contradiction in how we think about living now and in eternity. Have you spotted it? Life is meant to be a time of continuous growth, a state of divine discontent, that invites us to exercise agency with faith that testing builds capacity. Joseph Smith taught that we are here to learn to become gods. [15] So, when testing comes, choosing a trusting “tilt of [the] soul” [16] enables us to engage cheerfully, acknowledging that this is precisely what we signed up for.
Second, be an active waiter.
Sister Tracy Y. Browning speaks of the waiting time, that time between seeking divine intervention and receiving it, as a “sacred space [that] can be a place where our greatest spiritual conditioning can occur.” [17] Waiting includes both waiting for an event to take place and serving. Waiting is a spiritual experience and seems to be required of all Christ’s disciples. Failing to wait on the Lord will disrupt our peace. Think of how His disciples might have felt when in His greatest trial, the Savior found them sleeping. “Could you not watch with me one hour?” [18] Waiting on the Lord includes watching with Him, doing His will, and trusting He will not leave us comfortless—that all things really do work together for our good.
It’s quite possible that sacred waiting is the most difficult testing we will face. In fact, Elder Maxwell also taught that “by their very nature some tests are unfair.” [19] To someone with deep convictions of the principles of fair testing, these are sobering words. Elder Maxwell also taught, “While most of our suffering is self-inflicted, some is caused by or permitted by God.” [20] Why would that be? I believe it is because His ways are higher than ours. It’s because He knows who we are and who He wants us to be. It is because He knows we will succeed with His help, and He will give us all the help we seek. Acting in that kind of faith binds our feet to the covenant path that leads us home to Him.
The key to having a nice test in the waiting is to be an active waiter instead of passively enduring. Active waiting invites cheer; passive waiting is gloom and doom. We are active waiters when we do the things Christ did, even in the most trying moments. The early Saints, at the end of their time in Nauvoo, found themselves once again waiting and wondering when they would live in Zion, when they would actually get to not only finish building a house of the Lord, but also worship in it regularly.
The sisters of Nauvoo were active waiters as they packed only a few of their belongings, did a final sweep of their floors, closed their doors, and headed west. [21] They swept the floors!? They knew their homes would be overrun by mobs taking advantage of their hard work, yet they paused to sweep the floors. The early Saints are a marvel to me, especially when I think that I live five minutes from what will soon be two of the Lord’s houses—on the same street. The early Saints set an example of active waiting. What is the Spirit prompting you to do in your waiting?
Third, be a finisher.
Jesus was a finisher. He said, “I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do.” [22] President Thomas S. Monson spoke of finishers. I relate to his words because my dad was a finish carpenter. President Monson shared that one day, while window shopping (window shopping is what we did before we scrolled to shop), he saw a small sign in a furniture store window that read: "Finishers Wanted.” The store needed people with the skill to prepare furniture for final sale, to fix any flaws or mistakes, and to apply the varnish that made it shiny and protected. President Monson, likening this experience to life, asked, “Shall I falter or finish?” [23] He then quoted this poem:
“Stick to your task ’til it sticks to you.
“Beginners are many, but enders are few.
“Honor, power, place and praise
“Will always come to the one who stays.
“Stick to your task til it sticks to you;
“Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it, too;
“For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile
“Will come life’s victories after a while.” [24]
What does it take to be a finisher? Finishers aren’t simply task completers. They solemnly understand that the only way to achieve the outcome is to go until the final whistle. They also understand that it’s the finishing that brings beauty and protection. By focusing on the Master Finisher, who focused on “the joy that was set before Him,” [25] we can all be cheerful finishers.
Fellow learners, please don’t mistake me, I’m not talking about grit-your-teeth-and-paste-a-smile-on-your-face cheer. Life is quite a ride! And the fun of a roller coaster isn’t only in the anticipation as it climbs or in the pause at the crest, it’s also in the drop. We can choose to genuinely enjoy the entire ride, without forcing it. This I know for certain: We are prayed for and supported by angels on both sides of the veil, and it is awfully hard to fall down when so many are praying for us to stand up. We can pass our tests, we can go to the final whistle, and we can surely trust the hallowed hands in which we stand. My friends, we have the power, so let’s choose to have a nice test! In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
[1] Neal A. Maxwell, “Willing to Submit,” Ensign, May 1985.
[2] Bruce R. McConkie, “The Purifying Power of Gethsemane,” Ensign, May 1985.
[3] Jeffrey R. Holland, For Times of Trouble (Salt Lake City, UT: Deseret Book, 2012).
[4] Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “Two Principles for Any Economy,” Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2009.
[5] David O. McKay, Gospel Ideals: Selections from the Discourses of David O. McKay (Salt Lake City, UT: Improvement Era, 1953), 440–441.
[6] Joseph B. Wirthlin, “Come What May and Love It,” Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2008.
[7] Neal A. Maxwell, “Willing to Submit.”
[8] Hartman Rector, Jr., “The Gospel,” Ensign, May 1985.
[9] Mosiah 3:19.
[10] Doctrine and Covenants 78:18.
[11] See Romans 8:28.
[12] Neal A. Maxwell, “Willing to Submit,” Ensign, May 1985.
[13] Painting by Cortney Lunt
[14] Francine R. Bennion, “A Latter-day Saint Theology of Suffering,” BYU Women’s Conference, March 28, 1986.
[15] Joseph Smith, “King Follett Sermon,” April 7, 1844; see also, “Accounts of the ‘King Follett Sermon,’” The Joseph Smith Papers.
[16] Neal A. Maxwell, “Willing to Submit,” Ensign, May 1985.
[17] Tracy Y. Browning, “Seeking Answers to Spiritual Questions,” Liahona, November 2024.
[18] Matthew 26:40.
[19] Neal A. Maxwell, “Irony: The Crust on the Bread of Adversity,” Ensign, May 1989.
[20] Neal A. Maxwell, “Willing to Submit,” Ensign, May 1985.
[21] See “The Trail of Hope: Exodus from Nauvoo,” Ensign, July 2013.
[22] John 17:4.
[23] Thomas S. Monson, “Finishers Wanted,” Ensign, May 1972.
[24] Author unknown.
[25] Hebrews 12:2.
About Jodi Robison
Jodi Robison loves school and learning and considers herself to be a perpetual student. She earned a bachelor’s degree from Brigham Young University. Later, she earned a master’s degree, several certificates, and a doctoral degree, all online, so she could be where her children were. In addition to her Assessment Services Manager role, she occasionally teaches as an adjunct faculty member.
Jodi met her husband, Jaren, at BYU, and they’ve been married for 38 years. They have six children and 11 grandchildren. Jodi loves watching her children and grandchildren in any of their activities, including singing, dancing, acting, and playing ball. She also enjoys baking, cooking, eating, and going on family outings to church historical sites and Disneyland.
Jodi has held callings in almost every organization of the Church. She loves teaching, especially online seminary and institute, and also enjoys serving in the temple and going to Young Women Camp.