When I was a teenager, I had the opportunity to travel with a school group to Germany. One evening, after a long day, a few friends and I asked our teacher if we could take the subway, known in Germany as the U-Bahn, to buy some snacks. He agreed, but not without caution. He gave us very specific instructions: which train to take, where to transfer, and which stop to exit. Then he added one critical warning: the trains would soon stop running for the night, so we needed to follow the plan exactly and not delay.
At first, everything went according to plan. We reached the station, found the convenience store, bought our snacks then headed back in the direction we came from. But a few stops in, we realized that none of the station names looked familiar. We checked the map; nothing matched. We got off, switched trains, rode a few more stops, but we were still on the wrong train.
That’s when the pressure set in.
Every delay mattered. Every wrong decision eliminated options. We knew that missing one correct connection could mean not making it back before the system shut down entirely.
We tried asking a ticket agent for help, but the language barrier was too great. So, we guessed again and got on another train. Within minutes, we realized we were still headed in the wrong direction. The clock was ticking and three young American girls were suddenly very aware of how little margin for error remained.
This was back before cell phones with GPS and international calling plans were a standard staple in a teenager’s pocket. If we didn’t get on the right train soon, we wouldn’t make it back at all.
In that moment of desperation, I quietly said a prayer and asked Heavenly Father for help. Almost immediately, a young man wearing a gray Ohio State sweatshirt stood up, walked straight to me, and said in perfect English, “Do you need help?” I had never been so relieved to hear someone speak English! I quickly explained our situation and showed him on the map where we were trying to go. He looked at it carefully and then said something I’ll never forget: “The trains are about to shut down. You must follow these steps exactly. One mistake, and you won’t make it back in time.”
He then laid out, in precise detail, two specific train changes—no alternates, no shortcuts, no substitutions. Every step depended on the one before it. We followed his instructions exactly, boarded the correct trains, made the exact transfers, and as we pulled into our final stop, the trains shut down for the night.
We made it!
What I didn’t realize then, but understand now, is that we weren’t just trying to get back to our hotel. We were navigating a path where timing mattered, sequence mattered, and missing one key step would have affected everything that followed. That exact principle is what schedulers call the critical path.
In construction, a CPM, or Critical Path Method, schedule identifies the sequence of activities that must happen on time for the project to finish when promised. In a CPM schedule, each task or activity is carefully planned with predecessors and successors. For example, if you were building a house, you would not place the task to install the roof before you build your walls, and you cannot build your walls before your concrete foundation is placed. The sequence of activities in a schedule is dependent on the completion of the step that proceeds it.
In the scriptures, we are shown the concept of critical path in 1 Nephi Chapter 17 when Nephi is commanded by the Lord to build a ship. As Nephi’s brothers saw that he was about to build a ship, they called him a fool, “for they did not believe that [he] could build a ship”. [1] Given the time period, it seemed impossible to be able to build something that could carry them across the ocean, as they didn’t even have the tools or experience necessary to build a ship. But the Lord didn’t simply give Nephi an end goal; he gave him a path.
In verse 8, the Lord said to Nephi, “Thou shalt construct a ship, after the manner which I shall show thee, that I may carry thy people across these waters.” [2] Nephi immediately realized that he needed to understand and follow the critical path that the Lord had in mind for him when he asked in verse 9, “Lord, whither shall I go that I may find ore to molten, that I may make tools to construct the ship after the manner which thou hast shown unto me?” [3]
Nephi couldn’t sail this ship until it was built. He couldn’t build it until he obtained tools. He couldn’t build tools without first finding ore and melting it. He couldn’t melt the ore without first building a fire, and he couldn’t just build any fire. He needed to build bellows out of animal skins to make the fire hot enough to be able to melt the ore. He couldn’t do any of these steps without the Lord first showing him the manner in which he should build.
Each step depended entirely on the one before it. There were no shortcuts. No re-sequencing. No substitutions. If Nephi skipped one step, the project would have been delayed.
Once Nephi made the tools, he “did not work the timbers after the manner which was learned by men, neither did [he] build the ship after the manner of men; but [he] did build it after the manner which the Lord had shown unto [him].” [4] Nephi sought out divine revelation from the Lord and the Lord provided Nephi’s path forward.
What’s fascinating is that the greatest potential delays in this project were not technical, they were spiritual. Mockery from Nephi’s brothers, doubt, fear, and discouragement all threatened progress. But Nephi stayed on the critical path through obedience, faith, and unwavering trust in the Lord.
In construction, we often get into trouble when we focus on activities that are important but not critical. Some tasks have what we call “float.” That means they have built-in flexibility; they can be delayed for a time without affecting the final completion date of the project. Other tasks have no such margin. If they slip even a little, the entire project finishes late. The danger comes when we confuse the two.
Our covenant path is the same.
There are many good things in our lives: jobs, hobbies, recreation, even entertainment. These activities may matter deeply, but not all of them are critical to our progress. Faith in Jesus Christ, repentance, sacred ordinances, making and keeping covenants, and enduring to the end—these activities are critical. The covenant path is our critical path.
Nephi teaches us that the Lord doesn’t just give destinations, he reveals our path. In 1 Nephi chapter 17 verse 13, the Lord declares, “I will prepare the way before you.” [5] When we stay on that path, even the impossible becomes possible. Just as Nephi finished the ship and crossed the waters to the promised land, we too will reach our promised destination. Not by accident, but by staying on the critical path that leads to Jesus Christ.
What happens when we know the path we should take, but still struggle to walk it?
This question applies to each of us, because walking a narrow path is not easy and it was never meant to be walked alone.
The Savior teaches Enoch this truth in Moses Chapter 6 verse 34, by promising His presence and power, and then inviting him with these simple words: “Thou shalt abide in me, and I in you; therefore walk with me.” [6] Our Savior walks beside us—guiding our steps and strengthening us when our path is uncertain or difficult.
In Isaiah, the Lord teaches this beautifully when He says, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” [7]
Walking with the Savior still requires effort on our part. We must choose to step forward, to act in faith, and to keep moving along the critical path. President Marion G. Romney, former member of the First Presidency, said, “he can only guide our footsteps when we move our feet.” [8] Choosing to move forward also means choosing to step into uncertainty. Walking with the Savior does not mean the path suddenly becomes wide or safe, nor does it remove exposure or the possibility of missteps. It means trusting the One who walks with us when we cannot see every step ahead.
To better visualize that kind of trust and the risk that comes with it, I’d like to introduce you to one of the most dangerous jobs in construction: a structural steel ironworker.
If you’ve ever visited the Empire State Building, or simply seen images of it, you’ve probably noticed its impressive height and scale. While taller buildings exist today, the Empire State Building is iconic because of the era in which it was built and the remarkable speed at which it was erected.
In the early 1930s, during the Great Depression, thousands of ironworkers erected the steel structure of the Empire State Building in just over a year. Many of them walked narrow steel beams hundreds of feet in the air with no modern safety harnesses, no guardrails, and minimal protective equipment. [9] Unfortunately, lives were lost during the construction. It was work that required courage, balance, and absolute trust in the steel structure beneath them.
Today, ironworkers continue to walk narrow steel beams high above the ground. With great exposure to the elements and the constant movement from wind, even an experienced ironworker faces the danger of a fall. For that reason, modern day ironworkers choose to walk those beams fully harnessed and securely tethered to the structure. However, a harness does not prevent a fall—it ensures that a fall is not the end.
When an ironworker falls while tied off, the fall is arrested. All forward progress stops temporarily. The worker may climb back onto the iron or they may hang suspended in the air while a rescue plan is activated. Because of their decision to wear a harness and tether themselves to the iron, they will eventually make it back on to the narrow steel path and be able to continue forward with their work.
In the ironworking world, falling while tied off is not considered failure; it’s considered a recoverable event. That principle teaches us something profound about discipleship. Staying tethered to Christ does not mean we won’t fall; it means again, that a fall will not be the end.
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland once taught:
“I testify of the renewing power of God’s love and the miracle of His grace. His concern is for the faith at which you finally arrive, not the hour of the day in which you got there.
So if you have made covenants, keep them. If you haven’t made them, make them. If you have made them and broken them, repent and repair them. It is never too late so long as the Master of the vineyard says there is time. Please listen to the prompting of the Holy Spirit telling you right now, this very moment, that you should accept the atoning gift of the Lord Jesus Christ and enjoy the fellowship of His labor. Don’t delay.” [10]
Our covenants can become our spiritual safety harness. As we have faith in Jesus Christ, repent, make and keep our baptismal and temple covenants, partake of the sacrament, pray, and endure to the end, we tether ourselves to Jesus Christ and to His power. Walking the covenant path does not mean we will never slip. It means that when we do, repentance makes rescue possible.
Alma testified of this rescuing power when he taught that Christ would take upon him our pains, afflictions, and sins [11] so that He would “know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.” [12] In the dictionary, we learn that succor means “to go to the aid of,” or to “help.” [13] The Savior is not distant or detached from our struggles. He is present, aware, and actively involved in our lives.
Life is hard. Our critical path will be challenged daily and how we choose to prepare for these challenges will determine the outcome of our rescue. Will we choose to harness ourselves to the structure of the Gospel of Jesus Christ so that our fall may be a recoverable setback? Or will we choose to risk our salvation? If you find yourself contemplating the second, less desirable, and much harder option, may I remind you of a challenge given by President Russell M. Nelson when he said, “do better and be better.” President Nelson continued, “When we choose to repent, we choose to change! We allow the Savior to transform us into the best version of ourselves. We choose to grow spiritually and receive joy—the joy of redemption in Him. When we choose to repent, we choose to become more like Jesus Christ!” [14]
Being in the construction industry, I have seen firsthand how projects aren’t perfect. From time to time, schedules slip a little, budgets may be stretched, and coordination might be lacking. Through the power of humility, construction teams can find direction in the words of a prophet as they continue to choose to “do better” in their work.
Some time ago, I started challenging my project teams to quite simply, “do better.” It was meant to be a little satirical, even humorous, as we dealt with the constant challenges and complexities of our work. But over time, something interesting happened.
That phrase began to take on a life of its own. Consultants picked it up. Contractors repeated it, and before long, whenever an opportunity arose to improve coordination, communication, or execution, we found ourselves smiling and saying, “Okay, let’s do better.” What began as a challenge slowly became a shared mindset.
Without realizing it, we had created a positive affirmation that we were all saying. Those two words did not discourage or criticize. They became a reminder that improvement is always possible. They didn’t imply failure; they invited growth. They didn’t demand perfection; they encouraged progress. And that’s important, because both in construction and in life, we are constantly navigating complexity. There are distractions, setbacks, missed steps, and moments when progress slows. In those moments, a simple, repeated reminder like “do better” can recalibrate our focus and move us back onto the critical path.
Eventually, the phrase showed up everywhere. It found its way onto hard hat stickers, into email salutations, engraved on gifts, and can even be found hanging on the walls of contractor job offices. What started as a lighthearted comment became a visible reminder of who we wanted to be and how we wanted to work. In many ways, that idea ties directly back to how we can stay on our own critical path.
Staying on the critical path doesn’t mean we never stumble. Walking the covenant path doesn’t mean we never slow down. But it does mean that when we recognize a misstep, we adjust, we refocus, and we choose, again to do better, not in our own strength alone but tethered to Jesus Christ. With His help, doing better isn’t about pressure or performance, it’s about repentance, growth, and continued forward progress on the path that leads home.
The real danger comes when someone chooses to walk the beam without a harness and untethered. It often begins with one step they believed they did not need protection for. As covenants are neglected and repentance is delayed, Satan and pride will try to convince us that we can balance on our own. That is why the Savior asked us to walk with Him.
That is the covenant path.
That is the critical path.
And that is a path we were never meant to walk alone.
If we will do that, if we stay tied to Him, trust His timing, follow His sequence and path, and accept His rescue when we fall, then our destination will be assured. Just as Nephi reached the promised land by staying on the Lord’s path, and just as an ironworker finishes the job by staying tied to the steel, we will make it home by staying securely connected to Jesus Christ.
Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are our biggest fans. They want us to choose to do better. They have given us the critical path needed for our salvation and have blessed us with the necessary tools to stay tethered to them. Because they blessed us with our agency, they knew that walking the metaphorical iron would at times be terrifying, hard, and slippery. Because of this, we have been gifted the blessing of a spiritual harness through our covenants. May I challenge each of you to choose every day to do better and to put on your spiritual harness and claim the safety of the covenant path.
I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
[1] 1 Nephi 17:18.
[2] 1 Nephi 17:8.
[3] 1 Nephi 17:9.
[4] 1 Nephi 18:2.
[5] 1 Nephi 17:13.
[6] Moses 6:34.
[7] Isaiah 41:10.
[8] Marion G. Romney, “The Basic Principles of Church Welfare,” Ensign, Apr. 1981, 91.
[9] Tim Ott, “How the Empire State Building Was Built in Record Time,” history.com, Oct. 10, 2024, https://www.history.com/articles/empire-state-building-construction.
[10] Jefferey R. Holland, “The Laborers in the Vineyard”, Ensign or Liahona, Apr. 2012, 33.
[11] Alma 7:11-13.
[12] Alma 7:12.
[13] “succor,” merriam-webster.com, accessed Feb. 5, 2026, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/succor.
[14] Russell M. Nelson, “We Can Do Better and Be Better,” Ensign or Liahona, Apr. 2019, 67.
About Neihlee Muir
Neihlee Muir came to BYU–Idaho in 2003, and just one week after arriving in Rexburg, she met her husband, Tyler. They were married later that year and are now the proud parents of three boys. Neihlee and her family have made their home in the Ashton, Idaho area for the past 20 years. Neihlee loves playing the violin, softball, ice hockey, snowmobiling, and riding horses with her family, but her favorite hobby is cheering on her boys in baseball, football, hockey, and rodeo.
While raising her children, Neihlee continued her education and worked in both general contractor and subcontractor roles. She earned an associate’s degree in architectural technology and later completed a bachelor’s degree in construction management from BYU–Idaho. She also earned a master’s degree in management and leadership from Western Governors University. Neihlee has worked in BYU–Idaho’s Construction Management Services department since 2012.
She has served in various church callings, including Sunday School teacher, Young Women’s advisor, and stake family history consultant. She is currently serving as the first counselor in her ward’s Young Women’s presidency.