Easter

Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen.

The Gate

   One of the things that we have to do as missionaries is give up most contact with our family and friends at home. We get to call our families on Christmas and Mother's Day and email them once a week. It's a difficult thing to do, and for some, more difficult. For me, it's been a tremendously hard thing. In the months before coming on my mission, I was closer to each member of my family than I ever have been. To leave that behind -
   It's been hard to say the least.
   And as such, I'm looking forward to the day I go home and get to see all of them. I'm looking forward with anticipation the warm, loving embraces I'll give to and receive from each one of them.
   The one I'm looking forward to the most, however, is the one I'll share with my dad. Don't get me wrong; I love every other member of my family and the friends that will be there. They each mean so much to me. However, my dad is still my hero, even at 21-years old. I wish that I could talk to him daily about my life to gain his insight. I miss laughing with him, spending time with him, eating his amazing home-made ice cream, and more. That will all come again one day, but it will have to wait awhile longer.
   This morning, I was thinking about that during my studies (I was admiring my newly-acquired picture of the prodigal son and his father). As I was thinking about that, I stumbled upon a reference to this scripture and the light bulb turned on!

41 O then, my beloved brethren, come unto the Lord, the Holy One. Remember that his paths are righteous. Behold the way for man is narrow, but it lieth in a straight course before him, and the keeper of the gate is the Holy One of Israel; and he employeth no servant there; and there is none other way save it be by the gate; for he cannot deceived, for the Lord God is his name.

   That has absolutely nothing to do with embraces, fathers, family, or anything which I just talked about. So, let's do an exploded view of it. Let's take it apart, shall we?

I made this myself in Windows Paint. I know, it's awesome! Click to make it bigger.
(And I just checked the preview. On my screen it still goes way too far out!)

   I hope you can read that. I didn't want to make it too big to dominate the page.
   So, the question is posed, "Why does Jesus Christ employ no servant at the Gate?" I thought about it for awhile and could come up with only one satisfactory answer:
   To wait for us. Jesus Christ wants to stand there at that gate to personally welcome us home. Not to guard it nor polish the pearly material. Not to stand with a clipboard to make sure we're on the list before entering. He could have someone else stand there to do that while He attends to a million other things.
   No, none of those things suffice. In my mind, there is no other reason for Him to be there than to await our arrival. Like the father who saw his son when he was 'yet a great way off' and ran to embrace him, like my father will be waiting for me at the airport in a few months, Jesus Christ waits for us at the Gate.
   And it is my personal conviction that He waits to run to us, embrace us, tell us that He loves us, walk with us back the the gate, and welcome us home.

   Now do you see the connection between the scripture and my thoughts?
   Well good!


   He's waiting!
 

How Great the Importance

   I've been staring at this page for awhile now, yet I still have no idea how I want to start it. I've always been terrible with opening lines. I'm sure my AP English teacher laughed when she read one of my essays that began with, "I hate opening sentences. And that was it."
   Or something close to that. It was 5 years ago.

   As missionaries, we are to focus our thoughts on the work that is laid out before us. Thoughts can distract us easily and it's often a battle to stay focused (at least for this Elder).

   I have to admit, though - this week, my thoughts have been very far away. Why? Two words:

   My Sister.

   Let me show you why.

   This is my sister, Starley. She's a year-and-a-half older than I am. In August last year, she returned home from her mission just as I was hitting the halfway point on my own mission. 

   This coming Saturday, she is going to marry her high-school sweetheart for time and all eternity.

   I've been thinking quite a bit about her this week and I'm sure that I will be for the next few days. Thinking about it is as close as I'm going to get to it - I will still be here, in Fort Bragg, serving my mission.

   Now, at this point, I could take my blog down different paths. Hopefully I'll take the path less traveled.

   And that should make all the difference.

(Did you catch that pro Robert Frost reference? I'm awesome.)

   My sister is one of the most important people in the world to me. She's done so much to mold, shape, and change me. She's one of the most influential people in my life. Don't get me wrong, I love all four of my sisters and I never could nor would pick a favorite. I would gladly die (or live!) for any of them without a second thought. However, Star here has had the biggest influence in my life of all four.

   It kills me inside to know that I won't be there for her sealing (wedding), but... it's okay.

   First off, it's not about me, but her and her soon-to-be husband. I love her and I'm so excited for her to be taking this next step in her life. I wouldn't want her to wait a moment longer than she needs to.

   Second, I'm doing something important, too.
   I was reading my scriptures and once more stumbled upon this long-loved scripture in 2nd Nephi:

8: Wherefore, how great the importance to make these things known unto the inhabitants of the earth, that they may know that there is no flesh that can dwell in the presence of God, save it be through the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah, who layeth down his life according to the flesh, and taketh it again by the power of the Spirit, that he may bring to pass the resurrection of the dead, being the first that should rise.

   As I earlier, I'm here in Fort Bragg, serving as a missionary. As such, my first and foremost responsibility is to testify of the reality of the Lord Jesus Christ. There are many who don't know of Jesus Christ, or don't understand Him. Even tonight, I taught a man who sees no point in Jesus Christ.

   He is real, though. He is there. And He does have a point. He is the point. It's just as that scripture says: There is no person who can dwell in the presence of God except through Jesus Christ. My job is to declare just that.

   I know for myself that Jesus is the Christ, the Savior, the very Redeemer of the world. It didn't come over night, though. It came over time - I had to show God that I wanted to know. I prayed, I studied the scriptures, I attended and participated in Church regularly. I did my part and God did His. I can truly say that I know. 

   And you too can know - it's all up to you. You have to tell God you want to know, show Him that you deserve to know. 

   My sister is getting married in a few days and I wouldn't miss it for the world.

   Except to tell someone that Jesus is the Christ. Hopefully, I'm praying, that that knowledge will change people's lives.
 
   It's changed mine. Forever.

Because I Said So

   Do you remember the times as a little kid when you got the answer, "Because I said so?"

   At one point or another we all had come up with what we thought were spectacular, ground breaking, life changing ideas. Excited, we just could not wait to put them into action! Who wouldn't love this idea we came up with? It was going to be the most fun activity ever, or it would solve world hunger, or it would be absolutely the best prank in the world.

   And then, we were stopped, most often by our parents.

   "No. You can't do that."

   "Why not?!"

   "Because I said so."

   And that was usually the end of that conversation. After that, it was up to us to decide what to do. We could ignore our parents instructions, angrily continue to question their reasoning, or we could do what they told us.

   How many of you did that last one? Not me. Not that often.

   (And if you did, will you please tell me what your parents and you were doing right so that I can do that one day when I'm a father? K thanks.)

   As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we've been given more commandments than the rest of the world has been given. God has revealed even more that He does or does not want us to do. I try my best to keep these commandments, although I'm not nearly perfect. I may be a missionary, but I come packaged with weaknesses.

   Time after time, I've been questioned about these commandments. Why do you do that? Why don't you do this? Why? Why? Why? Sometimes, I'm able to give my inquisitors a good answer. But other times...

   "Because God said so."

   Not quite the most satisfactory answer, is it? Yeah, I know.

   Some may classify me as a thoughtless drone. Others may say I'm an ignorant follower. Yet still, more warn me against a blind faith. Classify me as you will, say whatever you want with your conventional wisdom and scholarly learning, but I'll call it something different.

   It's trust.

   Let me illustrate that trust to you.

   In the chronicles of time, few examples of trust shine brighter than that of Abraham and Isaac. Want to talk about following a crazy commandment? Abraham was commanded to sacrifice his only son, his only child, Isaac. I've been asked to not drink wine. I think it's clear which choice is easier.

   Yet Abraham, 'crazy' old Abraham, trusted God. He didn't question why. He probably cried. Oh, I'm sure he had a horrible time the week before. Horrible. 

   I'm sure that morning was cold. Doesn't matter what time of year it was, it was cold. He probably pleaded with the Lord a few times that morning in broken-heartfelt prayer. He stumbled as he walked towards Isaac to wake him. Abraham teared up as he smiling woke his son that morning.

   "Hey dad" Isaac mumbled through sleeping eyes and a yawn. I smiled down at him and told him to wake up. I left his tent to let him get dressed. 

   Eventually he emerged. We shared some bread that morning. It was the most bittersweet 'last-supper' that I've ever had. We talked about his life, his loves and interests, his everything. He's grown into such a fine young man I thought. He's my pride and joy. 

   We cleaned up breakfast, gathered the necessary things, and set off towards the mountain. The conversation grew quiet. No, not quiet. Solemn. Somber. I'm not sure if there were birds chirping that morning. I couldn't hear them if they were there. The sun rose, heating up the land around me. But it was still cold.

   Time passed. Our footsteps were steady.

   "Dad, are you sure?" I could hear the trepidation and fear in his voice as he spoke. For a moment, my own faith wavered. And then my resolve returned. I shook my head.

   "No, son, I'm not, but I trust the Lord." I paused for a moment. "He won't lead us astray. I know that. I'm not sure why He requires this thing of us. Of me. Of you. But He has. And as much as I love you, I love Him more." He glanced at me and half smiled, then put his face back to the road.

   We arrived at the spot. We got the altar ready and then we both stared at it for a moment. A very long moment. I whispered a small prayer in my heart for the strength to keep the commandments of God and for Him to take care of my son. And then I turned and embraced him.

   However long the previous moment was, this moment was longer. I didn't want to forget it. When we finally pulled apart, he stole one last glance at me and then got up on the altar and laid down.

   I took the knife in my hand. The hilt was so cold. I looked at my son and his eyes were closed tight. I'm sure he was praying as fervently as I just had. I slowly raised my hand and placed the knife some distance above his chest. I took a deep breath.

   Whatever noise was around us went silent. Time seemingly stood still. It was already cold, but now it was frozen. Everything. However long the previous two moments were, this moment was even longer.

   I inhaled.

   "Abraham! Abraham!"

   "What? Who's there?"

   "Don't touch your son. Don't hurt him at all!" commanded the angel. "I know now that you truly love and respect God, because you have not withheld your son, your only son from me." It was then that I realized it wasn't just an angel, but the very image of God Himself. He directed me to a ram, caught in the thicket not far off. I couldn't run to it fast enough. Isaac arrived at my side and we carried it back to the altar.

   It was the warmest day of my life.

   Want to talk about trusting God? Abraham surely did. He trusted Him more than life itself. He loved Him. He respected Him.

   God told us not to drink wine. He didn't command us to sacrifice our child. 

   Abraham didn't question God when given a new revelation, a new commandment. He didn't turn and say, "Well wait a minute. I'm doing what you told me to earlier! I'm not going to listen to you! I'm going to sacrifice my son, here and now." Nor did Abraham say, "Whatever. Don't see the point! No reason! The world is over-populated!" and continue on. He simply loved and trusted the Lord. He did as he was told.

   I can't explain every commandment that God has ever given. I don't know His reasons. But, what I do know, is that He loves me. He loves you. He loves us all. And if He commands it, then there really must be some benefit behind the commandment. The will of God will never, ever lead us to a place where His Grace and love cannot protect us. It's just the way it is - just the way He is.

   I know that God has truly restored, in it's fullness, the church that He set up. I know that He's again given us true and living prophets. (You can know all of that for yourself, too!) I know that He's alos given us more commandments. I don't know the reasons for all of them. But I do know that God wouldn't lead us astray.

I know that with all my heart.

   So, the next time you ask me why, there's a good chance you'll get this as a response:

  

   Am I all knowing? Nope.

   Are you? Nope.

   Is God?

   Exactly.

On a cold Monday night...

   Monday night, I talked to a man on his doorstep for awhile. The conversation made me happy and made me sad. Let me explain.

(Insert interrogation scene with one dark room, one swinging, low light in the center, one man with a heavy fist and loud voice, and one man with a shivering, quivering voice.)

   "Where were you on the night of Monday, December 19th, 2011?!"
   "Oh! I... I was... I was in my car! Driving! With my companion, Elder Blowers!"
   "What were you doing?!"
   "Well, our... our appointment had fallen through and we were just heading back to our car..."

(Insert time rewinding noises)

   "You know, Elder Blowers, I'm not going to lie - there was a part of me that expected that appointment to fall through. I wanted him to be there, but..." I shivered in the cold night as I approached the car.

   "Yeah, I know what you mean. I wanted to teach him too. He would have been great."

   I opened the car door and got in the driver's seat. Elder Blowers soon got in on the other side. I put the key in the ignition and twisted it. The car shivered to life in the cold, Fort Bragg night, and we pulled away from Jonathan's house.

   "Let's see." Blowers said as he opened his planner and pressed the light on in the cabin. "We had planned to go see the Mortons. They live over on Oak Street." In response, I turned around and headed to their home. However, a name of a man who I had never met continued to come to my mind. I couldn't suppress it, so I acted on it. 

   "Hey, Elder. Where does Robert live?

   "Rob? Rob Miller?" - I nodded - "He lives back that way, on Springs Road."

   "Alright. I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. We need to go see him." And thus, we sped off. We must have looked comical making two U-turns on the same street, but we needed to see this man - I didn't know why.

   A few minutes later (and only one wrong turn!), we pulled up in front of Rob's home. As we knocked on the door, my companion voiced his thoughts: he was wondering if Rob would be home - he never had been before. Quickly, though, his thoughts were answered with foot steps and a jiggle at the door handle. The door swung wide, light flooded the doorstep, and...

   "Gentlemen!" Rob stepped out and shook our hands. He and my companion shook hands and exchanged greetings, and then he turned to me. 

   "Hey! It's good to meet you Rob! I'm Elder Nuckles!" And then came that quizzical look that, really, I'm quite accustomed to.

   "Nuckles? Really?" I laughed and said that it was real. We spoke for a moment laughing about some things, and then I explained why we were there. I told him that I felt like we really needed to come see him. His mouth smiled at that, but his eyes betrayed him, even in the dark. I asked him how he was doing and his mouth then matched his eyes.

   He began to tell us the situation he was in at that point in his life. This is the part where I got sad. His was one of the stories that hurt inside. Listening to the hard times that he's fallen on really broke my heart. (I don't think that I could ever be a therapist. I think about other people's problems far too much!)

   He went on for awhile and I was at a loss for words. Some of those things just hurt. Some of them just sent shivers down my spine.

   (Pause the story. Before someone sends angry fan mail (fans! Ha. That's a good one) saying that everyone exaggerates and you need to hear both sides of the story, I want you to know that I know that. However, there is a grain of truth behind everything, and these stories hurt. Now, resume story)

   Minutes passed as he told us his stories. Eventually, a break came, and I took the moment to ask him how he was doing spiritually and if he felt he was close to God. He exhaled, looked me in the eye, and stated, "I'm close to God. I know that Jesus Christ is my personal Savior and that he loves me. I know that the two appeared to Joseph Smith and restored their truths."

    Now that made me happy.

    We continued to talk and he shared a few more stories. and then I shared with him a story from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.

   He smiled and thanked me. We prayed with him and then left.

   As we I watched him close his door, I shivered in the dark night. 

(Fast forward to the present, back to the dark interrogation room.)

   "What did you tell him?! Go on! What was the story?!"

   "It was the hopeful story entitled Good Things to Come."

                     Enjoy :)

Fort Bragg!

I haven't posted in a month! I'm such a slacker.

Sometimes people in Fort Bragg leave chairs in the middle
of intersections - for the entire night.

   I've moved up to Fort Bragg, CA. It's a cool place, really! Not like anywhere else I've served; it's a small coastal town off of highway 101.

   It's a unique town. You can hear the waves crashing against the cliffs and on the beach all night. In fact, I've already taken a cool picture. It's farther down the page.

   At the moment, I don't have a ton of cool gospel principles to write about, nor any fantastic parables. However, I'm very, very excited to work with the members here. Today, church didn't have the highest attendance, but that's okay! These members are strong, faithful members; they're people to be proud of. 

    That's all I have for now.

    Carry on.

I almost got eaten by this wave!

  

Mini-Reunion

   Sometimes, the Lord just makes your day. Did you know that?
 
   About 8 months ago, when I was yet a wee-young missionary, I interviewed a man for baptism. I'm not going to talk about what we discussed, but during that 45 minutes of talking with him, I had one of the most spiritual experiences of my mission, let alone my life. It truly was a sacred experience that I'll treasure for a long, long time.
   His interview went well an he was soon baptized and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Everything was good. I saw him a few times after that, but not too many. Soon afterward, I was transferred. I went on my way as a missionary, called a to a different place to continue preaching the Gospel.
   Last week, however, something cool happened.
   My companion and I were headed over to a member of our church's home to have dinner with them. We had both been there before, so I was rather shocked to find a different lady answer the door than the one who lives there, although she seemed familiar. She said, "Hello!" but then stopped and stared for a moment. Then a question - "Elder Nuckles?!"
   I knew that I knew her from somewhere. I couldn't place her, though. I started to open my mouth and then she said, "I'm Matt's wife! And he's in here! Sister Brown is my mom!" With that, it all clicked.
   I poked my head in the door to see Matt, the man I interviewed for baptism, sitting on the couch with their son. I was so excited. I ran in and talked to him. It was so good to see him! After so many months, to see him and know that his testimony is still strong and that he is still active in the church! It was really a day-maker. That's all I can say about it. It was just... great!
  
   I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is true and that it is indeed Christ's Church, led by Him. I know that He loves us and cares for us and that He wants nothing except our eternal happiness, to live with our Father in Heaven once again.
  

Knowing Christ

   Today I was working with a new missionary, Elder Van Wagenen. I like this missionary! He's a good guy. He's picking up missionary work quick!

   We were out tracting (knocking on doors) in the blazing October Vallejo heat. (Shouldn't it be cold by now? Anyway.) We were speaking with a young man at his door step and I asked him, "Do you feel like you are close to your Savior?"

   He contemplatively looked up and rolled the question around in his mind for a moment. He soon responded with, "Eh. Close enough." I carried on the conversation, but I don't remember what was said. Soon, we parted ways and Elder Van Wagenen and I carried on with our work. 

   Some time later, Elder Van Wagenen started asking me questions about the young man. We talked about him for a moment and I didn't think too much about it. But after the conversation, he stunned me with a rather... well, prophetic statement: If you think you know Christ well enough, you barely know Christ at all.

   It completely caught me off guard and I thought to myself True story.

   It got me thinking. What exactly defines 'close enough'?

   Can you ever do enough to be close enough to Christ?

  

   No, you can't ever be close enough to Him. Ever.

Fellowship of the Unashamed

Thank you, President Eyring, for this amazing quote about being a disciple of Jesus Christ:

I am part of the Fellowship of the Unashamed. The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made; I am a Disciple of Jesus Christ. I won't look back, let up, slow down, or be still. My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, and my future is secure. I'm finished and done with low living, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tainted visions, worldly talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals. I no longer need preeminence, positions, promotions, plaudits, or popularity, I don't have to be right, first recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk with patience, am uplifted by prayer, and labor with power. My face is set, my gait is fast, and my goal is heaven. My road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my Guide is reliable, my mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, divided, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder in the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity. I won't give up, shut up, or let up until I have stayed up, stored up, and paid up for the cause of Christ. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. And when He returns for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me. My banner will be clear.

That is all. :)

Surprise!

   Growing up as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, you always here stories of missionaries who find that one golden, prepared person who is just ready to hear about and accept the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. I've been a missionary for for 14 months and 11 days as of right now, and I had one of those experiences today.
   Come, gather around friends, and let me tell you about it.
    Two weeks ago, Elder Russell and I were out with a member, headed to a lesson. Which ended up falling through. We tried a few more people in the neighborhood, but nothing. We were on our way home, feeling somewhat dejected (and I felt somewhat guilty for not getting much done while this member drove us around). As we drove, I felt as if we should go stop by a less-active member's home, Stephen (who has been trying to return to activity). I didn't much want to, but nonetheless, we went.
    Stephen let us in and it turns out his fiancée, Tessa, (did you know that there's a difference between fiancé and fiancée? I just found that out) was there, as well. We proceeded to teach them about the Restoration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It was a pretty good lesson, although nothing to exactly write home about (or in this case, blog about)!
   Until today.
   Fast forward to this morning at 11:45. A different member went to pick up the couple and bring them to church. I was standing at the doors of the chapel, greeting people as they walked through the hallways. I heard my name and turned my head to see who was calling me. I saw Elder Russell, head and shoulders above the crowd, frantically beckoning me to where he was. I made my way through the crowd to find him standing next to Stephen and Tessa. I was excited to see them, but I wasn't prepared.
   I said hello to them both, but before I could even shake their hands, Tessa said to me in the most excited voice, "I read the whole book!" She was gripping her copy of the Book of Mormon like she'd never let it go and then continued, "I know that every word is true. I want to be baptized!"

   Whoa. I didn't know what to say. I just stood there for a few seconds and then said exactly that: "Whoa." I couldn't leave it at that though! So, I threw my hands up in the air in a 'touchdown' pose and said, "That's AMAZING! I'm so excited!"
    It was crazy. I couldn't really believe it. Usually getting people to read the Book of Mormon is like pulling teeth, yet here, she went ahead and read the whole thing! Just like that! It really confirmed my testimony that the Lord truly does people to receive the gospel. The scriptures even talk about this:

"...the Lord did pour out his Spirit on all the face of the land to prepare the minds of the children of men, or to prepare their hearts to receive the word." (Alma 16:16)

   It's true. He does. I'm a witness to it because I saw it today. I love Jesus Christ and I love His Gospel. It's the best!

Spick'n'span

Clean, isn't it?

That's the Celestial Room in one of the LDS temples.

The last few days, I've spent a lot of time cleaning the little apartment that I share with Elder Russell. Really, I like cleaning.

It feels good to get the grime out and get the clean, pure back in. Repentance is a lot like that. It's not just saying sorry, it's cleaning!

And besides, doesn't it feel better to be clean than dirty?

Food for thought.

Girls' Hair, 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenue, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ

   This one is kind of a long one! I'm sorry about that. But it's a good one!

   What do girls' hair, 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenues (I know the picture is an '88), and the Gospel of Jesus Christ have in common?
   Well, let me paint a picture for you.

   This last Wednesday night, we were having dinner with a family in our ward, the Clarksons (I'm using standard last names, not real ones). They had invited over another member of our ward, brother Hammond. The night went well, dinner was great (chicken, rice and salad!), the company was good. After awhile, brother Hammond (I'm just going to start referring to him as Hammond and brother Clarkson as Clarkson for ease) had to go run something out to his car. He came back and said, "Duty calls! There's a man outside whose car has broke down. He asked for some water for his radiator, so let's take it to him! Clarkson filled up some pitchers with water and off we four went to help the man out.
   He was stuck on a hill with the hood to his 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenue open. He didn't look completely thrilled at his current situation as he talked on the phone. We got over to him as he hung up and began talking to him. He laughed as he said, "One guy stopped to help me and now I have four!"
   We all began to check out his car and soon determined that the grade of the hill made it too difficult for his car's fuel pump to get gas up to the engine, therefore causing it to go kapüt. That's right, I just said kapüt. Anyway. We determined that if we used Clarkson's mid-size truck, we could pull him up to the top of the hill. It would flatten out and his car would be able to start, allowing him to go get some gas!
   You may think that there are plenty of other ways that we could solve this problem, and while we could maybe have done it some other way, here are the reasons why we didn't:

1. The steep, semi-busy hill wouldn't allow for us to push the car up, or allow for him to just coast backwards down the hill.
2. Without power steering, his car was too heavy and long to just turn around and go back down.
3. No one had any extra gas sitting around, nor felt like going to get some. Plus, Elder Russell, our resident (semi)mechanic said that it would have taken almost a full tank to get the fuel going again (He had a 20 gallon (nearly empty!) tank... ouch).
4. No one was answering their phones - not his family, mechanic friends, or even a rather popular roadside-assistance company!

   Now comes the only problem: The only thing we had to tow him with was some very long, thin nylon rope. There's no way it would hold the weight of his car. Everyone surmised that the rope would just snap, even if we looped it around the frame and hitch of the car and truck multiple times. The loops wouldn't sit evenly and would just snap one by one.
   It was desperate, hopeless even. What could we do?!
   And then the words of my sister came to me: "Trevvy, when in doubt, braid."

   Okay, that's a lie. But for some reason, I did picture her hair braided. Bingo!
   So, I grabbed the two ends of the rope and handed them to Elder Russell. "These are yours. Hold them."
   I ran the length of the rope and took the bend that was now in the middle and ran it back to Clarkson. "This is yours. Hold it."
  Again, I went to what was now the end of the rope and, folding the whole thing in half, took it back to the man (We'll call him James.) "This is yours. Hold it!"
   So now, we had Elder Russell with two loose ends, Clarkson with a fold, and James with two folds and four strands (due to the way the rope folded. If you think about it, it makes sense).
   I stomped my foot in the middle and began braiding, just as I'd seen my sisters do time after time. When the braid was finally done, Hammond tied a good solid knot on the end so that it wouldn't come undone. I crawled under his car, looped the rope around the frame, back out, and then around the hitch of Clarkson's truck.
   With the back of my shirt dirty, my hands black from the dirty frame, and my tie somehow surprisingly clean, I watched, along with Hammond and Elder Russell in anticipation. Clarkson got in his truck, James in his Plymouth, and the moment we'd all been waiting for was lingering over us, waiting to happen.
   The truck's engine started. Parts smashed together as it went from 2-wheel drive to 4-wheel drive. Then, Clarkson put it into gear. James similarly put his Plymouth into neutral and it rolled back a bit before he caught the car with the brakes.
   We took a deep breath and told Clarkson to start slowly while signaling for James to let of the breaks.
   The braids groaned in pain as the all the weight of the car finally pulled them more than tight.
I went to grab my camera, only to find that... I didn't have it. Let me share my feelings with you on that: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I couldn't upload it to the computer,
I took a picture of the picture with my
 camera. Sorry that it looks terrible!)

   Wait! I whipped out the cell phone that Elder Russell and I share and snapped a picture. Whew! Here it is!
   To our amazement, the truck slowly pulled the car up the hill. The rope (and the vanity license plate on James' car) made horrible groaning noises under all the weight. The rope seemed to say, "Why are you doing this to me!? I wasn't made for this! Stop it!"
   I seemed to say, "Go go go!"
   After what seemed like forever, but in reality, wasn't that long, the truck and car made it to the top of the hill! Hallelujah!
   Then, James anxiously tried the ignition.
   A few clicks!    ...Then nothing.
   A few more clicks ...Then nada.
   One last try - some more clicks. And...
   Vroooooooooom! It roared to life like a lion chasing an antelope down the savanna. All was well. We tried to untie the rope, but it had stretched and contorted so much that it was better to just cut it, so we did. We spoke for a few more minutes and James thanked us, comparing us to the Good Samaritan. He shortly hopped in his car and drove off to who knows where.

  It was a cool feeling. We just helped a guy and he was on his way. That's all. We went about doing good.
   Now! I didn't just ask you what cars and girls' hair have in common, but also, the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I didn't forget it! So here we go.
   Truck = Jesus Christ. (Except, He's not a mid-size truck. He's a very large, heavy duty, unlimited-power truck with a V180. Yeah. His Atonement and Power are that strong.)

The rope after it was cut off. That's my size
10 foot for comparison.

   Broken down car = that's the rest of the world and all their problems, just packed in there tight.
   Rope = all of us that are trying to spread the Gospel of Christ, whether we are Missionaries, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, Christians, or just plain ol' good people.
   If Christ wanted to, He could roll up behind us and easily push the car to the top of the hill. That would be an easy task for His matchless power. However, He wants us to have the growth, the trials that cause us to become better people. He wants to give us the chance to experience the joy that He does when He helps another child of God on their difficult journey through life.
   However, there is something else we must learn. We have to work together, to share the load, to simultaneously pull the load.
   If we pulled the load on our own, under our own power, we'd snap. Bam.
   If we all pulled at the same time, but not together, we wouldn't get very far. One by one, we'd slowly snap and break and be done for.
   If we all pulled at the same time, in harmony, working together, we'd make it. The Gospel would go forth without a problem. Sure, along the way, one or two of us would still break, but the load would still be shared and the Gospel would still go forth.
   Get it?
   So, when you're on that one popular TV game show and you're pick religion for $500 and you get this story, you'll know to answer, "What do girls' hair, 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenues, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ have in common?"
   Look at that. I just taught you a great Gospel Principle AND prepared you to get a nice bonus check.
   You're lovin' me now, aren't ya?
   I then got to go look at myself in the mirror after that. I was nasty.

And somehow, my tie was clean. It's a miracle.

I am... the Lawgiver!

   Let me start out with a cool vignette. I guess.

  There's a video on YouTube that someone made about a popular online video game and a Toyota truck. (I'm not supporting online video games - in fact, I really don't like them. I was addicted to them for awhile and it's terrible. Anyway.) In the movie, the avatar gets in his little Toyota truck and drives through the forest, with his buddies on their horses trying to keep up, and ramps off a cliff... straight into the jaws of a dragon. The guy's friends are rather distraught at his death. That is, until a bulge appears in the dragon's neck.

  The bulge explodes, and the man drives out of the neck, killing the dragon, and lands on the cliff. He drifts to a stop and that's when you notice the dragon's heart beating in the bed of the avatar's truck.

   And then, this epic line of epic lines: 

DID YOU SEE ME LAY DOWN THE LAW?! I AM THE LAWGIVER!

   Ah. I love it! 

   Saturday night, we had a similar experience. Elder Russell, in conjunction with the Spirit, laid down the law.

   

   We were with a family whom we've been teaching for awhile. They constantly fight, and that night was no exception. Back and forth they went, no love in that room. Finally, I said, "Alright, stop! Everyone say something nice about the person to your right!"

   What we got, though, was some blank looks. No one had anything to say, really. The father and one daughter got up to leave. I asked, "Really? You don't have anything nice to say?" 

   Nope, nothing.

   And then, the arguing broke back out.

   I looked over at my companion with his head in his hands. Unbeknown to the rest of the family, I could tell he was deep in prayer, pleading with the Lord.

   And then, I watched him go epic. It's so amazing, I must stick it in a quote:

Alright, I can't take it anymore! I'm sick of listening to you all fight! Do you not love one another at all? We're here to teach you about the Gospel of Jesus Christ! I've only got 10 months left to share this message of hope and that's really not long! So we're here to teach you, and if you won't let us, we probably won't be coming back! So please, let us teach you! Please!

   Whoa. I wanted to break out in song, singing "I Stand All Amazed..."
   He was almost in tears, pleading, frustrated, and sad. I felt the Spirit just flow into the room. It was mind-blowing.
   The father and the daughter ended up leaving after that, but we were left with the grandmother, daughter, and son. It was peaceful after that. We taught them the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We taught them about the Book of Mormon. It. Was. So good! We committed them to coming to church and reading the Book of Mormon - and they accepted (and they did all come to church today, plus the daughter who got up and left!).
   It felt so good when we left. The Spirit of the Lord was there so strongly, bearing witness to the truthfulness of our message. I know they were uplifted and spiritually fed.

   Now, to tie the two stories together.
   When we walked out of the house and down the street, I looked at Elder Russell and said:

I saw you lay down the law! You are the Lawgiver!

   Being bold with the Spirit of God - it's great. So great. So, here's a picture of Moses, laying down the law. He, too, was the lawgiver. But the Ultimate lawgiver?

   Jesus Christ - The Ultimate Lawgiver

   I bear my testimony to you that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, the Savior and Redeemer of the world. There is no trial that is too great for His power, no pain that is too fragile for His gentleness.

   The Gospel is True.

Blank

Sometimes, you have a ton of great blog posts. You're really excited to share these with the world. You just can't wait, really.

You're so eager to share them with the world that you just can't wait to post them to the world! you know for a fact that you're about to change someone's life.

And then, the moment you've been waiting for! You click the new post button and...


Bam. You forget. You lose. Oh well.


That's happened to me a lot recently. While I'm out teaching the world with Elder Russell, I constantly get all these amazing ideas that I want to post as a blog, how I'll relate it to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and then it'll just be awesome.

And, you know, right now, I've got nothing.

However, I promise you that Jesus Christ is our Redeemer. Both Him and our Father in Heaven know us and love us as individuals. I can only promise you that because I know it.

And that's what you get today, Friday, September 23rd, 2011.

Firetruck!

   Today, Elder Russell and I were waiting at a light, waiting to turn right. Waaaaaaaaay off in the distance, we could see some flashing lights. They were coming rapidly closer. And I mean, rapidly closer. Soon, we could see this fire engine hauling tail down the road. It was weaving through 5 lanes (two either direction and the turning lane) like it was some small, light, fast European sports car. The driver was borderline reckless! And that's exactly what I thought as he flew passed us as we quietly sat in the turning lane with our bikes in the back and the turning signal on.

   It reminded me of the following. It's a quote from  Elder Jeffrey R. Holland's talk For Times of Trouble:

[If] our eyes could be opened we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, these armies of heaven, in defense of Abraham’s seed. 

   You have to admit, that's cool. So, that's why I thought of as this fire engine raced down the street to someone's rescue.

   You go, firemen. You go.

There are these cool buildings...

   Sometimes I wish that I could stick a recording device in my head so that I could show people what and how I think. People would really get a kick out of it.

   

   The Gospel is a pretty cool thing. As in, really cool. I was looking at some of my fellow-missionaries blogs before I began to write this one. I looked towards the top of the page and saw the words 'Next Blog >>.' 

   

   Sure, why not? So, I clicked it.

   I stumbled upon a woman's blog about her life and her family. She has 4 kids and a husband. Her kids range from a young girl (7 maybe?), a pre-teen son, another son who just began driving, and a daughter who has a newborn baby. 

  

   While surveying her blog, I could just... feel her love for her family. I got lost and completely absorbed in it for awhile, I must admit. She was talking about how she loves her kids, her husband, her life, and all the time she spends with her family. She wrote about her imperfections, her weaknesses, but her love for life overall as well.

   It got me thinking.

   Isn't it cool how we can be with our families forever?

   I don't have a family of my own yet (just my siblings and parents back home), but one day, when I have my own wife and kids, I know that I'll want to be able to be with them forever. 

   Which makes me think about Temples. 

   Temples are sacred places where ordinances are performed so that we can be with our families forever. An actual, real physical ordinance performed by the power of God and Jesus Christ- not just a feeling that we can have!

   Which makes me think about how I like architecture. And, not to boast, but LDS temples have few things that compare to them in beauty. 

   Let me take you on a trip.

  

You've been working here all day long. Probably feeling something akin to these...

...blockheads.

The day ends. Time to drive home... except it's rush hour. 

Poppycock.

Great. Even better. "It'll be even longer until I get home to see my spouse." you think to yourself.

Wow. Construction, too. This is awesome. "I'm never going to get home tonight. No time with my kids."

Then suddenly, because of the frozen-molasses paced marathon that you're stuck in, you notice something that you haven't seen in your normal, hurried drive home.

"Vwhaat eeez deees?"
(Said like the Chef from the Little Mermaid when he finds Sebastian)

Traffic is ridiculously terrible, so you decide you'll explore this peculiarity while you wait for the roads to clear up and save some gas. Good idea. You're not going anywhere fast anyway.


 So off you go.

You wind your way through all the trees towards whatever that building could be...

and suddenly...

BAM!

Temple. 

There's something... there's something about this building that begs the question, "What are you doing in a world like this?" 

Here you stand, awestruck as you examine this otherworldly building. There's something... something about it that is completely... 

 ...otherworldly.

Not alien. Not demonic. But... heavenly. So you wonder, "What purpose do you possibly have, building?"

Well, let me tell you.

Enjoy!

One thousand, eight hundred and seven times

Today, I decided to do something fun: I did a quick search to see how many references there are to Jesus Christ in the Book of Mormon. So, I went to the scriptures and searched these keywords.

• Creator in the Book of Mormon: 10 times
• Savior in the Book of Mormon: 14 times
• Messiah in the Book of Mormon: 27 times
• Lamb of God in the Book of Mormon: 37 times
• Redeemer in the Book of Mormon: 40 times
• Holy One in the Book of Mormon: 64 times
• Jesus Christ in the Book of Mormon: 78 times
• Jesus in the Book of Mormon: 90 times (Note: For this and for "Christ," I had the search engine avoid the other name so that there are no duplicates of "Jesus Christ." Hope that makes sense!)
• Christ in the Book of Mormon: 247 times
• Lord in the Book of Mormon: 1200 times (Note: This one could have references to 'lords', i.e., government rulers. I looked through some of them and, as far as I know, most, if not all, are references to the Lord Jesus Christ. Also, like "Jesus" and "Christ", I had the search engine avoid pairing "Lord" with "Christ" and "Jesus.")

Whoa. Right there, there are 1,807 references to Christ. I didn't even search for Shiloh, Emmanuel, counsellor, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, Son of Mary, the Anointed, King of the Jews, King of Israel, the Word, the Light, the bread of life, the Good Shepherd, the Deliverer, the rock, and so on.

Really, the Book of Mormon is another testament of Jesus Christ.

Cool, huh? I thought so, too.

Breeze

   Yesterday was Stake Conference. (For those of you who don't know what that is, it's a church service where all of the congregations in a specific area join together for 2 hours. It's good times.) We went and were spiritually fed.

   On the way back, we got stuck in some slow traffic on the highway. As we drove, we were wondering why in the world the traffic was so bad. Eventually, our slow and steady course brought us into sight of some flashing lights - someone got in a wreck.

   Hope it's not too bad. I thought to myself as I sat in the back seat with my arm out the window, feeling the breeze flow across my skin. Details surfaced as we drew nearer. What was one set of lights turned into two. And then three. And then four. And then five. And then more. I don't remember how many, honestly.

   My dad told me once, "If you see an ambulance, someone is having a worse day than you, so cheer up." How true. How. True. Whoever this man or woman was, he or she was having a worse day than me. 

  The drive continued, and I began doing what most of us do as we get close to a wreck - you start sitting up straighter and watching for any and every bit of information you can. You want the juicy stuff. After all, this could make a great story later, right? Right. Soon, though, what my eyes didn't see was a flipped over, destroyed, flaming wreck of what was once a nice Volkswagen Jetta. What my eyes did see, however, was an airplane crashed on the side of the road. It was a small, single prop plane, nothing huge.

   From my limited knowledge, this is what I think personally happened: the pilot was cruising along on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, enjoying the beautiful Napa Valley skies. Suddenly, something went wrong. The pilot tried to do everything possible to recover, but it soon became apparent that a crash landing would need to be necessary (Would need to be necessary... that's terrible grammar. My AP English teacher would probably throw a copy of The Great Gatsby at my head for that). 

   After a rapid surveillance or perhaps a radio call to the airport, or probably both, the highway was chosen for a spot to land as it's rather similar to a runway and flat compared to the grape-laden hills. As the plane's shadow grew larger on the highway, the cars must have slowed down or moved to the side. However, not all went well and the plane still crashed. I'm sure help was already on the way even before bystanders began phoning in. Ambulances, fire engines, police, and more were responding with great haste.

    Back to the situation at hand: I saw one gurney with a body on it, so someone was hurt. I couldn't see much more, but I knew that that person was hurt. There were other civilians standing around talking to emergency responders, so maybe there were even more hurt than I could see.

   And that brings you up to speed on where I was - sitting in the driver-side rear seat, feeling the breeze across my arm.

   I began to think how precious life is. It's short. We're fragile. We're susceptible to so many different diseases and illnesses. We break. We're just... mortal.

   I'm glad that we won't always been this way. I'm happy that one day, the Resurrection will happen and mortality will be... over. 

   We drove passed the crash. I arched my neck around so that I could watch the airplane and firefighters or as long as I could. Finally, when I couldn't see it anymore, I sat back down normally, but this time much more somberly, with a lot more to think about.

   

   For some reason, the breeze flowing over my arm felt much better and had much more meaning to it.

Stove Toucher!

   Have any of you ever read The Continuous Atonement by Brad R. Wilcox? It's an absolutely brilliant book (Yeah, I like the Atonement if none of you can tell!). In it, Wilcox really helps the reader by seeing how the Atonement of Jesus Christ has a personal, real relevance for all. If you ever get the chance to read it, I would highly recommend it.

   Today, I want to quote him on something that is rather, well, humorous. My companion, Elder Russell, and I now quote this section of the book with laughter because it makes sin sound...

   ...funny!

   Before you think I'm a blasphemous son-of-a-gun, let me explain to you. Wilcox makes a brilliant mockery of sin. He takes many of the common excuses that we have for sin and puts them in the context of touching a burning stove. Please, take a gander: 

 (I put * next to my personal favorites.)

     In the context of touching a hot stove, consider some of the most common excuses for sin:
          Just one touch won't hurt.
          I'm afraid if I take my hand off I won't be able to leave it off.
          I deserve this.
          The only reason I feel pain is because of my Mormon culture.
          But I was born with the desire to touch the stove.
          It's my parents' fault. They're the ones who bought the stove.
          I just need to adjust to the burning rather than try to overcome it.
          I want to be excommunicated so it won't hurt when I touch the stove.
          No one told me touching the hot stove was bad.
        *It may hurt, but at least I'm touching it with someone I love.
          It's not like it's totally wrong. It's a gray area.
          Everyone else is touching it.
          I'll touch it if I want. It's my right. Nobody is going to tell me what to do or not do.
          Stove? What stove? I don't see any stove.
          I just don't care anymore. I'm numb to it.
          I know it's wrong, but I'll move my hand tomorrow.
          You can't go without touching the stove all the time.
          I've blown it now. I might as well touch it more.
        *Those who don't touch are so old-fashioned.
        *At least it's just my hand and not my whole face.
          How will I know it hurts unless I touch it myself?
        *At least the other stove touchers accept me and don't judge.
          There are others who touch it more than I do.
          If God didn't want me to touch the stove, He wouldn't have given me a hand.
   
   Tell me that you didn't chuckle at all. Well, don't tell me that. I hope that you did, chuckle, however. These excuses, though, are true! How pathetic do they sound? Really? Seriously?
   Our excuses will do us no good come Judgement Day. The Prophet Alma taught:

14 For our ^awords will condemn us, yea, all our works will condemn us; we shall not be found spotless; and our thoughts will also condemn us; and in this awful state we shall not dare to look up to our God; and we would fain be glad if we could command the rocks and the^bmountains to fall upon us to ^chide us from his presence. (Alma 12:14)

   Good point. It doesn't matter what excuses we give here. All of our excuses are pathetic, really. When we stand before God to be judged, can you really picture yourself saying, "It's your fault. You gave me the hand!" It's really just not going to cut it. 

   However, that doesn't mean repentance is easy! It is worth it though. Repentance is a difficult, often painful process that brings joy - infinitely more joy than sin ever will.

   And we can talk about repentance through the Atonement another day. I just wanted to share that. 

To Make Us Worth It

I love C.S. Lewis. Mainly because he said amazing things like this:

"Christ died for men precisely because men are not worth dying for; to make them worth it" - C.S. Lewis.

 It's exactly true though. We came to this life, imperfect as we are, to get our bodies. We knew beforehand that it would be a struggle, that we would need a lot of help. We understood that, by our own merits, we would never be able to return to live with our Heavenly Father and our families for eternity.

Enter Jesus Christ: He saves us from the lasting effects of the fall. He made us worth dying for by dying for us.

It was a cool thought. I just wanted to share it with you.