What a glorious site you are! I am humbled by the opportunity to be here with you and hope the Spirit will be with us in abundance.
One warm June day, a friend called and explained that her family was planning a week-long float trip down the Middle Fork of the Salmon River, Idaho's pristine wilderness territory. In order to go on the trip, her family had applied and been selected for a permit for a group of about 25 people. A family that was scheduled to go had cancelled and, with just four weeks to prepare, my friend invited me and my family to join the group. The invitation excited me! I couldn't wait to go on such an adventure. I imagined forging large white water rapids, the sun shining on our faces as we smiled and whooped with joy. In my mind I could see my husband and daughters' delight, as we shared this incredible experience together.
That evening, I chatted with my husband about his day at work, making small talk as we prepared dinner. Just when he seemed most relaxed, I slipped in the offer to join our friend and her family in floating the Middle Fork. My husband looked shocked! He was surprised I would consider such a trip knowing I couldn't swim. And I wouldn't say we are a camping family. Our idea of camping involves indoor plumbing, air conditioning, and flattening irons. We had little time to prepare. My husband, always the cautious planner, wanted time to think about the trip before making a commitment.
Two days later I came home from work and there on our kitchen table were four new sleeping bags! Despite some reservations about my inability to swim and our overall lack of preparation, my husband agreed to the trip.
We began preparing for this unexpected adventure. My brother Marty, an experienced white water raftsman, talked to me about rafting safety. He told me that sometimes people just pop out of the boat. He explained that if I found myself in the water, I should pull my knees up close to my chest, placing my body in a sitting position, pull my elbows in close to my body, and use my hands to navigate my direction in the water. This whole idea seemed a bit preposterous to me. Why would someone just pop out of the boat? I asked. My brother carefully explained how that might happen, enjoying the naivety of the question. Our preparations continued. We purchased a tent, lanterns, clothing, and a map of the river. My family was given a large white cooler for food storage. I carefully organized our cooler, placing items that would be needed later in the week at the bottom of the cooler, with lunch and snack items that would be needed immediately on the top. The morning we were to depart, I checked the cooler one more time. It was perfect! In my mind's eye I could see my family asking for something; I would be able to find the desired item in seconds. My family would beam, knowing their wife and mom was the most efficient and organized woman on the trip!
My husband took the cooler to a central point to load on a trailer. When he returned he explained that the coolers had been reorganized. All our lunch food was placed in a cooler we would share with my friend and her family. The items that would be needed later in the week to prepare and serve dinner to the group were placed in another cooler and duct taped shut. Although this seemed like a logical decision to my husband, I felt my plan of perfection had been altered. We drove to an area near Stanley, Idaho, and spent the night. We were surrounded by majestic mountains and forests. The beauty that surrounded me filled my soul with peace. The next morning we launched our loaded boats down a long ramp. Once we were at the water's edge, we made final preparations to place our rafts in the water. My husband, youngest daughter, Ashlyn, and I were in the same boat. Our captain had floated the river several times, but had never oared a boat before. My oldest daughter, Karly, was placed in another boat with our Bishop, an experienced oarsman. We were finally ready! Everything was going just as planned. We floated through the splendors of the forest that enveloped us, cresting large whitewater rapids and enjoying the sunshine. Suddenly, our boat hit a very large boulder. The pressure of the water pushed against the raft, wrapping it around the rock. I remember seeing my daughter and husband catapulted out of the raft into the cold, rushing whitewater. And then I saw my own feet entering the same frigid water. Suddenly the current pulled me to the middle of the river. I looked back to see my husband reaching for Ashlyn and breathed a sigh of relief knowing they were safe. My journey, however, was far from over.
The current was so swift I had no control. At the mercy of the river. I was swirling around and couldn't see where I was going. Unable to control my course, I bashed into rocks. Within seconds I was thrust into whitewater. In the middle of the rapids I realized I was being pushed down into the water and my life jacket was floating up. I didn't know it at the time, but in order for a lifejacket to work correctly you must cinch it tight to your body. I prefer loose fitting clothing and so, I did not tighten my lifejacket. The end result was that the lifejacket floated and I was pushed under the water. So, I did what any reasonable woman would do in the same situation. I screamed, "I can't breathe! I can't breathe!" inhaling large amounts of river water in the process. At this point I realized I needed to follow the counsel I had received from my brother. I pulled my knees up to my chest and pulled my lifejacket down with my hands. With the lifejacket close to my body, I floated to the top of the water and could breathe. What a relief! That relief, however, was only momentary as I realized that holding on to the lifejacket meant I couldn't use my hands to navigate. The current continued to move me rapidly forward, throwing me against rocks as I spun, at times floating backward, with no ability to see where I was going.
As the current changed direction, I could see another section of large white water rapids looming ahead of me. I knew my only hope was to try to stop myself against one of the boulders I could see in the clear, cold water. I could see a rock ahead of me and decided to try to extend my legs in an effort to catch myself against the rock. Because the current was so strong, I was concerned I might break my leg, but knew I had to find a way to stop myself. I slowly stretched out my legs and caught myself against the rock. I used all my strength to push against the current that was relentlessly trying to force me off the rock. Exhaling with exhaustion, I examined my surroundings, noting more whitewater just downstream. I wasn't sure how long I could hold on before I would again be carried into the whitewater. I found comfort knowing my family was behind me somewhere, safe and sound.
The temporary safety of my rock shelter was shattered as I heard my youngest daughter, Ashlyn, call out, "Mom! Mom!" I turned to see Ashlyn in the middle of the current and realized she had just traversed the same frigid water and class three rapids I had. I yelled at Ashlyn to swim to the shore. As Ashlyn swam, I uttered a humble and sincere prayer, asking my Father in Heaven to protect my daughters and to keep my husband safe.
As soon as Ashlyn got to shore, she turned towards me and began to sob. She yelled, "Mom! Mom!" I could hear the terror in her voice and became frightened that she would try to swim to me. I told her to stay on the shore where she was safe. At that moment, I heard my husband's voice. I cannot begin to describe my joy when I saw my husband on a raft coming to my rescue. He was reassuring me and telling me to hang on. Inwardly I thought, "No problem! I'm not going anywhere, at least if I can help it." And then, he did what any great husband and father would do. He oared to the shore to check on Ashlyn, telling me that help was on the way.
I exhaled, looking down stream, unsure if my exhausted body could hold onto the safety of my rock much longer. As I began to mentally prepare myself to be carried away by the current, our bishop threw a line to me and pulled me into the safety of his boat. I later learned the current had pulled Ashlyn from her father's grasp, carrying her past the boat that held my oldest daughter, Karly.
Life is very much like my river trip. We come to earth with knowledge and experiences from the pre-existence. As we gain experience in this life, we prepare and plan, creating images of a perfect and carefree life. Filled with anticipation and excitement, we work and wait for our plan to come to fruition. Along the way we experience the wonder and joys of life. We also experience unexpected and often unwanted challenges that alter our plans, sometimes dramatically. As we anchor ourselves to the safety of the gospel, holding onto what we know to be true, we will be able to withstand the currents around us with courage and strength.
In Mosiah 18:9 we learn courage is our conviction to "...stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life." Our convictions are evident in the choices we make. President Monson teaches us decisions are our destiny. Making wise choices does not require perfection. It requires courage. In fact, it is how we respond to the boulders in our path—our challenges—that will define who we are and who we will become. We are empowered with courage as we respond with conviction and action.
A year-and-a-half ago, my youngest daughter, Ashlyn, found herself watching some of her friends making choices that she knew were not in keeping with the gospel and what her father and I had taught her. Initially, the choices seemed small and of little consequence, so she looked the other way and continued her associations. Soon these seemingly small and inconsequential decisions led to more significant and consequential ones, forcing Ashlyn to make a choice. Without talking to either her father or myself, she decided to distance herself, not necessarily from her friends, but from the decisions they were making—decisions that she knew were not in keeping with the Lord's plan for her. And so, this fifteen year old who, like others her age, had made friends her priority began to stay home, and not just on weeknights, but weekends too. I would wander into our family room to find Ashlyn watching TV on the couch by herself.
At first this was an enjoyable change, giving us family time and an opportunity to get to know her better. But when weeks of staying home on Friday and Saturday nights turned into months, I started to worry. I began to ask her if she wanted to do something with her friends. She would casually answer, "No, I'm fine." This of course only caused me more concern. I shared my worries with her father, telling him this just wasn't normal for a fifteen year old girl! My heart began to fill with deep concern for this daughter. What I didn't know then, but would learn later, was that she was trying to distance herself from choices and activities she did not want to be a part of.
Ashlyn realized that finding new friends would take time and so, she stayed home for a significant portion of her freshman year of high school. As Ashlyn relied on the Lord to help her navigate unknown and challenging waters, she was able to forge new friendships and rekindle old ones. And she was able to find her testimony. In the time she spent alone, Ashlyn reflected on her life and goals, thinking about the direction she was headed, what she wanted, and what she held dear. Through her efforts to ponder her life, Ashlyn discovered her testimony of our Savior and began to define how she would live her life, setting a goal to serve a mission and marry in the temple. And, now a junior in high school, she has been blessed with friends who honor her choices and value her as a daughter of our Heavenly Father.
Recently, Ashlyn again confronted another challenge. Faced with disrespect and bullying, she felt she could not bear what was happening to her. With a broken heart and spirit, Ashlyn came home from school and went to her bedroom. Alone in the house, she knelt next to her bed and began to pour her broken heart out to her Father in Heaven, telling him she could no longer bear the burden she was facing. As she finished her prayer and stood up, she noticed a scripture from Doctrine and Covenants section 121, written only one week prior, on the chalkboard in her room. It says:
"My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; and then, if thou shalt endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes."[1] This was not the answer Ashlyn wanted to receive. She wanted permission to give up, to quit. This scripture was a reminder to her that her Father in Heaven was mindful of her and that although she was experiencing adversity, she was strong. It also reminded her that courage is an act of faith, and requires action on our part. Armed with the love of her Savior, she was able to face her challenge, alter the course of what was happening to her, and feel the comfort and assurance of the Lord in facing an overwhelmingly difficult situation. The Book of Mormon is filled with examples of those who speak with boldness and fear not the reproach of men.[2] One of my favorite examples of standing with courage and conviction is Captain Moroni, who, despite opposition, proclaimed the gospel with boldness as recorded in Alma 60:36, which states: "Behold, I am Moroni, your chief captain. I seek not for power, but to pull it down. I seek not for honor of the world, but for the glory of my God, and the freedom and welfare of my country." I love Captain Moroni's unshakable courage in standing for his God, his family, and his freedom. Like Captain Moroni, there will be times we will be asked to courageously stand for what we believe and boldly unfurl our standard of liberty. C.S. Lewis observed: "Courage is ... the form of every virtue at the testing point... Pilate was merciful till it became risky." It takes courage to unapologetically live our standards, especially when it is not convenient. It is in striving to live what we know and believe, while turning to the Lord with a humble heart, that we develop our spiritual muscles.
Brothers and sisters, as we exhibit courage we become who the Lord wants us to be, holding firmly to the gospel, not just in trying and difficult times, but in seemingly ordinary circumstances; for it is in these circumstances that we can become complacent. We become who we are meant to be when we lean on the Lord and trust not on our own understanding. And yes, at times that will require us to courageously stand alone. And standing alone is no easy task. At times it will require us to go to the Lord with a broken heart, knowing he cannot change the situation but trusting that we will be strengthened and empowered to move forward. Thankfully, as Latter-day Saints, armed with the knowledge of the gospel and the love of our Lord, we do not have to stand alone. I learned this lesson in a profound and powerful way from my mother.
As a child, we often spent our summers visiting our relatives in the Salt Lake City area. The summer following my third grade year of school was no exception. This was cherished time with cousins, something I looked forward to every summer. My brother and I spent the first day of our Salt Lake vacation visiting our cousins Maya and John. In the warmth of the June sun, my brother, Jay, and cousin, John, ventured out to the backyard to play on the equipment my uncle, a skilled welder, had built. The play equipment was shaped like a half moon with bars for climbing and a chain that hung down from the bars. My brother, Jay, swung on the chain as my cousin, John, climbed across the bars at the top of the toy. As my brother began to swing higher, the play equipment tipped, landing on top of my brother. A nightmarish scene followed as my cousin called for my aunt who, upon seeing my bother laying in the grass, bloody and unconscious, fell to her knees to offer a short, soulful prayer. Towels were fetched from the house, neighbors gathered along the chain link fence as emergency personnel carefully cared for my brother, later transporting him to a nearby hospital for emergency surgery. With the innocence of an eight-year-old child, I looked at my aunt and told her Jay was going to die. Understandably, my aunt pleaded with me not to say that, but my eight-year-old heart knew differently. My father, working in Idaho, flew to Salt Lake City as doctors labored to save my brother's life before he slipped through the veil. Later that day, my parents took me to a private room in my grandmother's home and told me my brother Jay had died. That day I lost my brother and my friend. Because I had been prompted that my brother would die, this news was not shocking. I had been sheltered and prepared for this tragic loss, for which I am eternally grateful. I still remember traveling home and walking into the bedroom we shared. Jay's favorite bear, Benny, was still in our room waiting for the boy that would never return. And my bedroom, now filled with only me, was quiet. The greatest challenge, of course, was moving forward.
Thankfully, I was blessed with a mother that had a strong testimony and eternal perspective of life. This knowledge gave her strength and helped her to face the loss of my brother with courage. My mother taught me the plan of salvation. Through her I came to understand that we were an eternal family and that I would see my brother again. I also came to know that this was part of the plan for my brother's life, which had not ended, but was continuing with our Father in Heaven. That knowledge was so comforting to me! It brought peace and understanding amidst chaos and uncertainty.
My mother knew that a belief in the Atonement was our foundation. But she also knew that faith, as Joseph Smith taught in the Lectures on Faith, is a verb. Yes, faith is an action and requires us to act. My mother experienced other challenges in her life, including polio, unwanted divorce, and a debilitating stroke. She could have become bitter. After all, none of these challenges were what my mother had planned for her life. In his book The Uses of Adversity, LDS psychologist Carlfred Broderick states, "The gospel of Jesus Christ is not insurance against pain. It is a resource in the event of pain, and when that pain comes (and it will come because we came here on earth to have pain among other things), when it comes, rejoice that you have resources to deal with your pain." When we use the resources the Lord has given to help us navigate the boulders we confront, we are comforted, empowered and have the courage to become what our Father in Heaven sees we can be. We cannot sit idly by and think that we will develop courage and strength. An athlete does not become stronger by looking at the weight room from afar. Courageously becoming who we are meant to be requires us to exercise our spiritual muscles. Courage is not something that some people have and others don't. It is not a gift that you can unwrap and suddenly own. Courage is gained as we trust in the Lord at all times and in all places. Courage is developed line upon line. It is earned through experience and strengthened as we turn to our Father in Heaven and hold to the gospel. We are often told we are not here to fail. That is true! Even more importantly, we are here to succeed. That doesn't mean we are or need to be perfect. In fact, the decisions we make when we have fallen short can become defining experiences if we humbly turn to the Lord. This is an act of courage that will bring us closer to the Lord and determine our destiny. I have been privileged to see such courage shown by one of the young men I was honored to teach in Sunday School. It is with his permission that I share his story.
I first met Caden during his senior year of high school. Caden was outgoing and charismatic with a quick sense of humor. Although he had consistent attendance at church, it is fair to say church wasn't his first priority. Caden's time away from church included hanging out with friends, too often participating in activities that were not in keeping with church standards. And yet, Caden still attended church, sometimes bringing one of his friends to Sunday School with him.
As Caden neared the age of nineteen, he began to think about a mission. He knew his life was not in keeping with mission standards and made a commitment to meet with the bishop and make the changes necessary to go on a mission. This was not an easy process. It meant changing behaviors that had become comfortable habits. It also meant changing friends, never an easy task. Changes came slowly, sometimes with one step forward and two steps back. When his mission call came, we rejoiced in Caden's decision and hard work to become a missionary. On a brisk spring afternoon, Caden said good-bye to his family, squared his shoulders, and walked into the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah.
I happened to be traveling home from a work related trip the day Caden would fly out to his mission. As I landed in the Salt Lake City airport, I realized I would likely be able to say good-bye to him. I checked the flight boards, found the appropriate destination, and began walking to the gate, eager to say good-bye to Caden as he departed for the mission field. I arrived at the gate to see a large group of smiling missionaries in suits and dresses. I scanned the group, looking for Caden. Not seeing his face, and assuming he was calling home, I asked the missionaries if this dear elder was part of their group. The once smiling faces became silent and sullen. One elder, large in stature, stood and told me he was Caden's companion. I smiled, happy to meet Caden's companion. The now quiet group of missionaries fixed their eyes on this elder as he explained my friend had gone home a few days before. I wished the group well, telling them to have a great two years.
I walked slowly away, pondering the sacrifices Caden had made in preparation for his mission, my heart broken, knowing how difficult this would be for Caden and his family.
The next day, I drove to Caden's home to let him know of my love for him. I chatted with his mother and learned Caden had something that did not get completely taken care of before he left for his mission. A zone leader in the MTC, Caden knew he could not continue without addressing the concern. In an act of courage, Caden met with his priesthood leader. Caden had a desire to return to the mission field and planned accordingly. Time passed and it soon became apparent a return to the mission field would require waiting a substantial amount of time. Caden had good family support. Caden and I would occasionally grab a soda and discuss his plans. During these visits, it became clear Caden was losing hope. He stopped planning to return to his mission and began planning how to move forward with his life.
Caden secured a job and began taking classes from a local university. He had a girlfriend who was not a member. It was their desire to marry, but Caden's girlfriend wanted to join the church before their marriage, something she knew would be difficult for her parents to accept. Eventually they were engaged and married, and, following the marriage, Caden's wife was baptized. Caden and his beautiful wife settled into their new ward. Both of them were working and began taking courses from the same local university. Neither of them had an interest in attending BYU-Idaho, but as they continued to faithfully turn to the Lord, their hearts were softened and they were led to BYU-Idaho.
Moving to Rexburg to attend school was another act of courage. Unsure of where they would live and how to pay for the expenses of being full-time students, Caden and his wife trusted in the Lord. I bumped into Caden and his wife a few times during their first semesters at BYU-Idaho. Caden reported he loved BYU-Idaho! His classes were challenging, but he was working hard and finding success in a difficult major. What I noticed most about my friend was the light, the pure light of Christ, in his eyes. Rather than forsake what he knew, in a difficult situation of his own making, he courageously and humbly turned to the Lord. The light that shone from his eyes was a testament the Lord will succor us when we turn to him in humility and do what we are asked to do with courage. As Caden acts in faith, he is becoming the man the Lord knows he can become; valiant, capable, and courageous. In a powerful postscript to this story, Caden and his wife were sealed in the temple and recently welcomed their first child, a beautiful daughter, into their family.
The Lord does not expect perfection. We become perfected as we exercise courage and humbly allow the Lord to help us become who He intends us to be. God doesn't require us to be perfectly qualified for what we are called upon to do. He calls those who are willing to courageously sacrifice to become the person He wants us to become. Brothers and Sisters, hold to this gospel. You will confront boulders in your path. You will find many of these boulders camouflaged as safety nets. Don't be deceived! Remember, courage is developed as we faithfully and humbly seek the Lord in prayer with a willingness to follow the Savior and become what He intends us to become. Prayer is our lifeboat that will keep us afloat and safe through the whitewater we encounter in our lives. As we prayerfully counsel with the Lord, seeking his direction, we will be strengthened. We will be able to get up and get going - to act rather than be acted upon. The road to your eternal success is under your construction. Developing courage will require your conviction of heart. The Lord will strengthen you beyond what you believe possible as you humbly seek Him. Stand with courage, and become what the Lord intends you to be, regardless of time or place. Your courage to become will shine as a testament to Him. You are meant for greatness!
I say these things in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
[1] D&C 121: 7-8
[2] Isaiah 51:7