Recently, while preparing a lesson for Gospel Doctrine class, I reread the story of Alma and Amulek in The Book of Mormon. Alma was going it alone, being a missionary, and had had great success in the land of Melek. He headed off to Ammonihah next, expecting the same results. However, he was quickly disappointed as "Satan had gotten great hold upon the hearts of the people". As a consequence, "Alma labored much in the spirit, wrestling with God in mighty prayer, that he would pour out his Spirit upon the people who were in the city; that he would also grant that he might baptize them unto repentance." However, it just wasn't happening. The people continued to reject his message, and they threw him out of the city.
I can just imagine Alma at this point, walking along some dusty road, alone, wondering exactly why things had gone so differently in Ammonihah. I think the key word in the scripture referenced above is "wrestling". My interpretation of the scriptures speaks to a situation I have encountered many times; a situation where I too am wrestling with the Lord.
Things had gone as Alma had hoped in Melek. People listened to his message and were baptized. Having heard the stories of John's mission and the boys' missions, I know that there is nothing more gratifying for a missionary than having someone listen to the message and then accept it. Along with a huge dose of gratitude, Alma probably left Melek with a little bit of satisfaction with himself. He had worked hard and had seen results.
The question that might have been running through his mind as he then left Ammonihah was "Why?"
Or perhaps "Why not?"
No doubt, he worked with just as much vigor in Ammonihah. He probably fasted and prayed even more. However, the results were completely different. He left unsuccessful, and as I see it, he had a conversation with the Lord, asking him why it hadn't worked. Why hadn't the people been led to the waters of baptism when he had done everything he was supposed to do?
Certainly, the Lord had a lesson for Alma to learn from this experience. After all, isn't that what trials are supposed to do for us? Aren't we given them so that we can learn something?
I feel as if my time in State College has been my own Ammonihah experience. We moved to State College from Germany, certainly one of the best places we had ever lived, believing that the Lord wanted us in State College for a reason. Our little family grew up in Germany, and had a lot of success. Some of the best friends we've ever had we met there.
So when we moved to State College, much like Alma, I hoped for the same experience. I imagined that we would make more close friends. That our family would just add to our list of great times and great people. After all, crossing the ocean didn't make us any different as people.
However, it didn't pan out that way. It feels as though at times it has just been jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. We get through one hard time, and there isn't even time to relax or rejoice before we are faced with another one.
And this has caused me to wrestle with the Lord on more than one occasion. I have asked him why we are having to endure such an unhappy situation if he wanted us to live in Pennsylvania. John's stress levels have reached such a place that I worry about his physical health. We are drowning in debt from the high taxes we must pay each year. We are far away from just about any place we want to be including John's work. It has been overwhelming, and almost daily, I ask the Lord why this is happening. We live our lives pretty well, keeping the commandments, going to church, fulfilling callings, and raising our kids to be pretty good people.
There have been times when I have felt so overwhelmed with the criticism that my family has endured that I just don't feel as if I can shoulder the weight of it all anymore. It is a constant wrestle in my mind, trying to think good of those who are purposely trying to take us down. And the offense? Oh goodness, I have had more conversations with John than I care to admit about trying to let go of the hurt without taking it out on those who are hurting me.
So I feel for Alma as he scuffs his feet along the dusty path out of Ammonihah, probably praying as he is walking, pleading with the Lord for understanding. He had such a righteous desire, and yet he was not given what he had hoped. Perhaps his faith was shaken. Perhaps he questioned if he had not understood the promptings of the Spirit.
That dusty path is a hard one. However, in walking it, I have grown closer to my Savior, and I have a greater understanding of the Atonement. I know I've written about this before, so I won't elaborate, but I have learned that my Savior suffered everything I am suffering. He knows exactly how I feel, and because of that, he can take the burden from me. He has offered up his life so that I don't have to suffer. For me, when I give him my weaknesses, or my sadness, or my confusion or doubt, he takes those and leaves me with peace. So much peace.
And from stage right, enter Amulek.
Amulek is an interesting guy from the start. While we quickly learn that he is a pillar in the community of Ammonihah, we also learn that he isn't exactly an active member of the church. In fact, he had been shown many of the "mysteries of God" and yet had rejected them. However, in a greater scheme of things than perhaps he understood at the time, the Lord sent an angel to tell him that Alma was coming back to Ammonihah and that Amulek was supposed to feed him and house him.
You have to love Amulek's response. Not a waver of doubt. Not a single question to the angel. He just accepts what he has heard, and in no time, Alma does indeed show up. In fact, when they meet and Alma asks for some food, Amulek responds like this:
And the beautiful thing? Amulek's witness of Alma and his teachings help convert some of the people of Ammonihah.
Huh. Let's think about that.
It's almost like God could see the bigger picture of something greater. Amulek would continue his conversion process because of helping Alma. In fact, he would be put back on the path towards eternal life. As we learn in Doctrine and Covenants 18:15, "And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father."
Ammonihah is eventually destroyed because they wouldn't repent, but Amulek was saved because Alma returned to the city and found him like he was told to do.
So while Alma was originally wrestling with the Lord and his methods and the outcome, in the end we see that the Lord knew exactly what he was doing. He knew that the people wouldn't accept the gospel as a whole, but he had a plan to save Amulek. How beautiful.
Hindsight is 20/20, and the Lord always sees the bigger picture. We just have to trust him when the sky is overcast and the fog moves in. We may not be able to see, but he can.
So, a year and a half ago, John and I both received an impression, independently of each other, that we needed to sell our house. In all honesty, I felt like it was an answer to my prayers of eight years. We were finally going to leave State College and move on. We didn't know where or for what purpose, but it was time to go.
And a year and half later, we still haven't sold our house.
Yet again, we are trying to do what the Lord has asked us, and it's hard not to doubt. Did we hear correctly, or did our emotions generate the feelings we had? Why did he want us to put the house on the market, only to stress even more about it not selling.
And this past Spring, John received a strong impression that this is a trial of our faith. That we are being tested. If our house was to sell immediately, we would say prayers of thanks and move on. But this? This is giving us a chance to learn, and from it, we have been given multiple opportunities to bear our testimonies to others about faith. That our faith doesn't grow when things are easy, but it's from the times when we feel we are walking alone in the sand that we learn that the Lord is actually right next to us.
So last night, I felt a strong impression to call Hannie. When she's out at BYU, we don't hear much from her, and honestly, she takes care of herself really well so we don't worry. But as I kept watching tv, the impression got stronger that I needed to call her.
After a few minutes of catching up on things in school and at Interlochen, I asked her, "What's going on with your social life? Do you have any friends?", and I knew immediately why I had been prompted to call. She's terribly lonely out at BYU, and has been struggling to make any friends for the past two years. She is very aware that people aren't naturally drawn to her, so she makes Herculean efforts to serve other people, to be kind, and to be smiley. It doesn't come naturally to her, so it's also exhausting for her.
She proceeded to tell me how she is never invited to anything, how she invites people to do stuff with her and they don't respond and/or don't come, and how alone she feels.
She too is walking that dusty road, wrestling with herself and God as to why she can't have just one good friend. She's trying her hardest, and she's just not having success.
And don't you know that I wish I was there, walking beside her, being her friend, but I know that there is a greater picture to all of this. There is something that God wants her to learn. Something deep and life-changing. But gosh, it's a lonely road.
We talked for over an hour, and after I hung up, I sank to my knees in prayer for her. I didn't pray that others around her would change, because they won't. But I prayed that she would find peace in being who she is, even if that means being alone.
And almost immediately, I remembered the lessons that I had learned about the Atonement from my own painful social experiences. And I knew, in my hot, tiny dorm room at Interlochen, that all of those painful moments from our time in State College were given to me so that I could teach them to my daughter. There had been a bigger picture for my suffering.
I called her back and told her that the Savior was going to help her through this. That he alone understood exactly what she was feeling at that moment, and that he could give her the peace and happiness that she desired so badly. I reminded her too that the Savior wanted his friends to stay awake with him as he suffered--that he had invited them to support him--but they cared more for sleep than for Him. Certainly, he understood the feelings that she was having about feeling rejected. We shed some more tears together as I bore my testimony to her of this, and I knew that she would look back on this someday and be grateful for the lesson she will learn from it.
I went to bed.
The next morning (this morning), Ethan messaged me and asked me if he could FaceTime me (from Poland). I was headed out to breakfast before church, but I had ten minutes.
He gave a talk in his Warsaw ward today about listening to the Spirit. And the first example he used in his talk? Us receiving the feeling that we should sell our house. He shared that it hadn't happened yet, and that we were doing what the Spirit had prompted us to do.
And within a short six hours, I saw again that there is always a bigger picture to our sufferings. John has already shared our story with several people who are having a hard time holding onto faith, but there was something beautiful in knowing that an entire ward of Polish saints could now benefit from that story.
Gosh darn it, all of us want Melek. We want things to work out how they should and to be easy, but it's not the Lord's way. The struggle is real, and there is purpose behind it all. That purpose? Love. We are reminded of the Love of God for us, and we develop the love for God from it.
Just remember. God sees the bigger picture.
I can just imagine Alma at this point, walking along some dusty road, alone, wondering exactly why things had gone so differently in Ammonihah. I think the key word in the scripture referenced above is "wrestling". My interpretation of the scriptures speaks to a situation I have encountered many times; a situation where I too am wrestling with the Lord.Things had gone as Alma had hoped in Melek. People listened to his message and were baptized. Having heard the stories of John's mission and the boys' missions, I know that there is nothing more gratifying for a missionary than having someone listen to the message and then accept it. Along with a huge dose of gratitude, Alma probably left Melek with a little bit of satisfaction with himself. He had worked hard and had seen results.
The question that might have been running through his mind as he then left Ammonihah was "Why?"
Or perhaps "Why not?"
No doubt, he worked with just as much vigor in Ammonihah. He probably fasted and prayed even more. However, the results were completely different. He left unsuccessful, and as I see it, he had a conversation with the Lord, asking him why it hadn't worked. Why hadn't the people been led to the waters of baptism when he had done everything he was supposed to do?
Certainly, the Lord had a lesson for Alma to learn from this experience. After all, isn't that what trials are supposed to do for us? Aren't we given them so that we can learn something?
I feel as if my time in State College has been my own Ammonihah experience. We moved to State College from Germany, certainly one of the best places we had ever lived, believing that the Lord wanted us in State College for a reason. Our little family grew up in Germany, and had a lot of success. Some of the best friends we've ever had we met there.
So when we moved to State College, much like Alma, I hoped for the same experience. I imagined that we would make more close friends. That our family would just add to our list of great times and great people. After all, crossing the ocean didn't make us any different as people.
However, it didn't pan out that way. It feels as though at times it has just been jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. We get through one hard time, and there isn't even time to relax or rejoice before we are faced with another one.
And this has caused me to wrestle with the Lord on more than one occasion. I have asked him why we are having to endure such an unhappy situation if he wanted us to live in Pennsylvania. John's stress levels have reached such a place that I worry about his physical health. We are drowning in debt from the high taxes we must pay each year. We are far away from just about any place we want to be including John's work. It has been overwhelming, and almost daily, I ask the Lord why this is happening. We live our lives pretty well, keeping the commandments, going to church, fulfilling callings, and raising our kids to be pretty good people.
There have been times when I have felt so overwhelmed with the criticism that my family has endured that I just don't feel as if I can shoulder the weight of it all anymore. It is a constant wrestle in my mind, trying to think good of those who are purposely trying to take us down. And the offense? Oh goodness, I have had more conversations with John than I care to admit about trying to let go of the hurt without taking it out on those who are hurting me.
So I feel for Alma as he scuffs his feet along the dusty path out of Ammonihah, probably praying as he is walking, pleading with the Lord for understanding. He had such a righteous desire, and yet he was not given what he had hoped. Perhaps his faith was shaken. Perhaps he questioned if he had not understood the promptings of the Spirit.
And from stage right, enter Amulek.
Amulek is an interesting guy from the start. While we quickly learn that he is a pillar in the community of Ammonihah, we also learn that he isn't exactly an active member of the church. In fact, he had been shown many of the "mysteries of God" and yet had rejected them. However, in a greater scheme of things than perhaps he understood at the time, the Lord sent an angel to tell him that Alma was coming back to Ammonihah and that Amulek was supposed to feed him and house him.
You have to love Amulek's response. Not a waver of doubt. Not a single question to the angel. He just accepts what he has heard, and in no time, Alma does indeed show up. In fact, when they meet and Alma asks for some food, Amulek responds like this:
"I am a Nephite, and I know that thou art a holy prophet of God, for thou art the man whom an angel said in a vision: Thou shalt receive. Therefore, go with me into my house and I will impart unto thee of my food; and I know that thou wilt be a blessing unto me and my house."
And the beautiful thing? Amulek's witness of Alma and his teachings help convert some of the people of Ammonihah.
Huh. Let's think about that.
It's almost like God could see the bigger picture of something greater. Amulek would continue his conversion process because of helping Alma. In fact, he would be put back on the path towards eternal life. As we learn in Doctrine and Covenants 18:15, "And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father."
Ammonihah is eventually destroyed because they wouldn't repent, but Amulek was saved because Alma returned to the city and found him like he was told to do.
So while Alma was originally wrestling with the Lord and his methods and the outcome, in the end we see that the Lord knew exactly what he was doing. He knew that the people wouldn't accept the gospel as a whole, but he had a plan to save Amulek. How beautiful.
So, a year and a half ago, John and I both received an impression, independently of each other, that we needed to sell our house. In all honesty, I felt like it was an answer to my prayers of eight years. We were finally going to leave State College and move on. We didn't know where or for what purpose, but it was time to go.
And a year and half later, we still haven't sold our house.
Yet again, we are trying to do what the Lord has asked us, and it's hard not to doubt. Did we hear correctly, or did our emotions generate the feelings we had? Why did he want us to put the house on the market, only to stress even more about it not selling.
And this past Spring, John received a strong impression that this is a trial of our faith. That we are being tested. If our house was to sell immediately, we would say prayers of thanks and move on. But this? This is giving us a chance to learn, and from it, we have been given multiple opportunities to bear our testimonies to others about faith. That our faith doesn't grow when things are easy, but it's from the times when we feel we are walking alone in the sand that we learn that the Lord is actually right next to us.
So last night, I felt a strong impression to call Hannie. When she's out at BYU, we don't hear much from her, and honestly, she takes care of herself really well so we don't worry. But as I kept watching tv, the impression got stronger that I needed to call her.
After a few minutes of catching up on things in school and at Interlochen, I asked her, "What's going on with your social life? Do you have any friends?", and I knew immediately why I had been prompted to call. She's terribly lonely out at BYU, and has been struggling to make any friends for the past two years. She is very aware that people aren't naturally drawn to her, so she makes Herculean efforts to serve other people, to be kind, and to be smiley. It doesn't come naturally to her, so it's also exhausting for her.
She proceeded to tell me how she is never invited to anything, how she invites people to do stuff with her and they don't respond and/or don't come, and how alone she feels.
She too is walking that dusty road, wrestling with herself and God as to why she can't have just one good friend. She's trying her hardest, and she's just not having success.
And don't you know that I wish I was there, walking beside her, being her friend, but I know that there is a greater picture to all of this. There is something that God wants her to learn. Something deep and life-changing. But gosh, it's a lonely road.
We talked for over an hour, and after I hung up, I sank to my knees in prayer for her. I didn't pray that others around her would change, because they won't. But I prayed that she would find peace in being who she is, even if that means being alone.
And almost immediately, I remembered the lessons that I had learned about the Atonement from my own painful social experiences. And I knew, in my hot, tiny dorm room at Interlochen, that all of those painful moments from our time in State College were given to me so that I could teach them to my daughter. There had been a bigger picture for my suffering.
I called her back and told her that the Savior was going to help her through this. That he alone understood exactly what she was feeling at that moment, and that he could give her the peace and happiness that she desired so badly. I reminded her too that the Savior wanted his friends to stay awake with him as he suffered--that he had invited them to support him--but they cared more for sleep than for Him. Certainly, he understood the feelings that she was having about feeling rejected. We shed some more tears together as I bore my testimony to her of this, and I knew that she would look back on this someday and be grateful for the lesson she will learn from it.
I went to bed.
The next morning (this morning), Ethan messaged me and asked me if he could FaceTime me (from Poland). I was headed out to breakfast before church, but I had ten minutes.
He gave a talk in his Warsaw ward today about listening to the Spirit. And the first example he used in his talk? Us receiving the feeling that we should sell our house. He shared that it hadn't happened yet, and that we were doing what the Spirit had prompted us to do.
And within a short six hours, I saw again that there is always a bigger picture to our sufferings. John has already shared our story with several people who are having a hard time holding onto faith, but there was something beautiful in knowing that an entire ward of Polish saints could now benefit from that story.
Gosh darn it, all of us want Melek. We want things to work out how they should and to be easy, but it's not the Lord's way. The struggle is real, and there is purpose behind it all. That purpose? Love. We are reminded of the Love of God for us, and we develop the love for God from it.
Just remember. God sees the bigger picture.
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