That's the Bee's Knees!

Ouch.

     While in high school, when I didn't do hockey, I was running-- a perfect combination of aerobic and anaerobic exercise if done properly.  Doing so, I had to cope with what was commonly known to runners and doctors as "Osgood-Schlatter's disease."  It sounds scary and painful (yes, it hurt pretty bad at times), but in short, it's a knee condition where bone plates (tibertuberosity) stick out of where they usually were to make room for the rest of your knee bones closest to your shin to grow and develop.  At times, I would complain to my coach and I would complain to my physical trainer about the sharp pain.  Through it, I would avoid running as much as possible because it hurt so much.  It got to the point where it hurt so much that I was thinking about quitting sports altogether.  Running through it isn't the most pleasant thing in the world, but the biggest assurance that I got from the doctors was that it was only temporary; it would enable me to become [taller] than I was before.

     In sports and also in life, there are many occasions where we may think, "oh crap, a challenge."  Once we see such, it may get worse and worse until we get to the point where we want to give up.  Bluntly speaking, life sucks.  .  For the most parts, it really isn't the funnest thing in the world.  Paradoxically, the reasons why it sucks makes it beautiful.  From it, there are going to be times when for even a brief second, the problems will be gone and we can cherish what matters to us.  In one challenge and another, we know that they are temporary and are for our own good.  The adversity we face can cripple us where it matters most-- for a time.  It may not look like we can bear such a difficulty, but time will pass and we will succeed, keeping such experience handy in the fountain of our knowledge.  The joint will heal and make way for even further growth until we are complete.  Remember that everything here in Earth is only temporary-- our problems are more temporary, quicker-lasting than the happiness we will receive both here and in heaven.

     Life thought about in the temporal sense will only bring us pessimism, however, if it is thought in an eternal perspective, the fact that once we pass on, we will be resurrected with perfected bodies and see our families again and live on forever with God, there's an old saying in one of the Church's hymns: "all is well, all is well."

The Quaking Within

Many people struggle with the fact that they may be members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but not really have a strong witness of its truth.

• Joseph Smith is a prophet, seer, and revelator.
• The book of Doctrine and Covenants are continued revelation of God to His servant(s).
• The Book of Mormon is actually another testament of Jesus Christ in the Americas.
• [Write current Church President Here] is a living prophet, guiding us today.
• God and Jesus Christ live.
• We are all spirit sons and daughters of a perfect, immortal heavenly Father.
• The Atonement of Christ enables us that opportunity to live with God again in heaven.

It's really hard that many, even other Christians, have to deal with the fact that their discipleship to Christ isn't as easy as one may expect.  Many sacrifices are made and many are shunned, frowned upon, and more or less disliked for their convictions.  It leads to the fact that one questions his or herself.

Planting the seed of cynicism

Personally, I have gone through a very similar trial not too long ago.  A bit after I first came out to California, there was an Iago-esque voice that would whisper to me a question: "what do you believe?"  While I was still rather fresh as a missionary and even before that, I had a strong confirmation that I believe in the Church of Jesus Christ and its restoration-- through it, I had a lot of things going for me.  Life was more or less pretty awesome as a missionary.

Slowly, though, this idea was aurally impregnated and grew.  The birthchild was that of doubt and question that arose in my mind-- missionaries are no exceptions to the fact that their faith will be tested.  I couldn't respond correctly to the questions of potential converts, both in English and Korean.  I couldn't testify, even if I wanted to.  I worked as hard as I could, obeying all that God and my mission president* asked me to do, but I had a feeling that something was missing-- something direly important.  The little whispers gravely wounded the mouth of the still small voice.

Alarmed, I was praying to my Father in Heaven about how this came to be-- not too long ago, my faith was burning like a wildfire, consuming sin and iniquity in its path (a bit exaggerated:P).  Now, it seemed as if I was a husk of a harborer that the Lord wanted me to be-- the Holy Ghost wasn't very strong, if at all, and my mouth was confounded before everyone.  Honestly, I felt like my time to return home had come-- my faith was cut down by the world and I felt like with what little remained, I could do much good at home, advising and counseling those who had similar problems.

A simple talk with a friend and a renewed sense of urgency to teach and learn later, I studied the Bible and the talks from General Conference as much as a missionary could during his free time.  There was never anything that really hit me as did the 24th verse in the 9th chapter in the book of Mark: "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief."  I knew that this Church had so much good in it, but the powers of disillusionment and darkness were seeping into my soul.  With prayer and study to rekindle the once strong faith, I still have yet to find a strong, spiritual witness-- I did hope.  How else was I to do the work without a strong conviction?

To be quite frank, sure the resources that the church has were pretty awesome when it came to just studying up a firmer foundation of knowledge and assurance, but the real battle, the conflict in my head, was still raging.  The belligerent wasn't going to give up with a few good reads.  In several weeks' time, though, I came across a rather unexpected piece of literature-- it wasn't a Bible nor was it a thing of all the church leaders' sermons in a single anthology.  No, it was a manual.  It was a manual that pretty much told you what you needed to do to be a contributing member of society.  To me, it was just the most interesting thing in the world compared to everything I've been reading lately, I finished it within a few days and started applying a lot of those principles in my own life.  A small but noticeable flame emerging from my chest.  A desire to go out and do was blossoming.

Sunday came rolling along.  Church was over, and I swapped companions for the rest of that day.  With this missionary, we were heading up to the hilltops of Anaheim to see an Easter Devotional 20 or so miles away from church.  While driving up, we were talking and it seems like this missionary was going through a rather difficult time with his actual companion-- I really wished I could tell him what to do, but all I could do was understand-- this same companion was mine not too long ago.  So kind of in a really distraught state of mind, this missionary didn't want to quite go into the Devotional with the face that he was conveying.  So, we talked some more in the car, me pretty much telling him things that he already seemed to know (him being 6 years my age), and ended with a prayer of solace.

Gilbert Arizona Temple

Through that prayer, there was a voice kind of mashing incoherent words together until an understandable phrase uttered out of my mouth: "is your desire [to serve the Lord, continue my mission, turn that frown upside down, act upon the diligence and testimony of the church] stronger than your current problem?"  In that little instant, my mind flashed to several things: the day I was confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The day I beheld an LDS temple for the first time.  The day I heard the announcement that enabled me to go on my mission the time I decided to go.  These memories hit me with a lucidity so clear that I felt as if I was walloped by an invisible force-- the Holy Spirit.  I could not deny the feelings I had in each instance.  They were real.  The burning in my chest grew back into the wildfire I've known it before.  It was simply amazing the feeling I had back.  With such a force, I couldn't not deny the truth of what the Church was teaching.

With that in mind, here I am.  I have a desire to serve in a greater capacity than ever before.  From such a trying experience, the lesson I learned was that it's up to God whether or not He wants you to know the things that you know, even if you come seeking.  The thing is, if you want to come to know the truth that you have questioned all this time, it won't just come through prayer-- sure it helps. but it's the diligence of treasuring up the Words of God and acting upon it that will ultimately fuel spiritual growth.  God'll answer your prayer only if you act upon what you desire.  For me, that was cracking the Bible every day and just trying to understand what it could offer me.  It turned out that God had led me to that manual.

I have a spiritual witness of the divinity of the work.  Through it and the truth that can be bestowed, we can all find happiness.  Mormons are always happy for a reason-- it isn't just a rumor.

"I'm beginning to see the light"

As the power and the spirit of the piano come to a close, the dividers inside the room come to reveal a large, glass-enclosed tub of water. Right above is a slim, but long mirror overlooking the water in the
tub. As the door in the tub opens, a man clothed in white comes out into the open, his countenance just glowing. Step by step his bare feet is immersed-- the water then reaching the ankles, then the
calves, and then the upper leg. Out that same door, another man comes out, revealing himself. He too is wearing all white-- in the same manner of the former, he enters the water and proceeds to clasp the
other man's wrist. Good people do exist-- most in those nooks and crannies you've passed by all this time.

Jesus being baptised

"Having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptise you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen" (Missionary handbook appendix A).

The man whom the latter had grasped is submerged into the water, in all his fullness, and then comes back up, a free man. A reborn man. A sinless man.

Baptism, to a Latter-day Saint and any other practicing Christian, is one of (if not the most) important ordinance that one will witness, perform, or undergo. For converts, it's that second chance that one seldom gets at life-- to become a new person, spiritually. For the one baptising, it's a glorious event being able to have his brother through God enter into a covenant to be that much closer to Him. Not too long ago, I was able to witness a baptism of a man-- let's call him Adam. Because of the sweet fellowship of his girlfriend, he was ready to enter into the hands of God through baptism. An exciting time for all in attendance, it definitely has a feel unlike anything else.

This is the ultimate goal to the ultimate starting path. Through it, one can be closer to God and closer to entering His kingdom. We invite all people, worthy, to enter into such a covenant. I can guarantee that you'll feel a lot different once you come out of that font-- a changed man (or woman).

Orange You Glad?

     Look at the picture and imagine that orange skin was you.  It's definitely hard lifting the things that weigh on you the most.  Heck, if I were that orange skin, I wouldn't be able to lift up half the weight that that guy has to!  It's tough, life, and we each will one day have to lift something of a burden like that.  It's not going to be fun.  It's not going to be easy.  It's most certainly not going to feel good.  Why do we exactly carry something that we don't like?

     In the 48th chapter and the 10th verse of Isaiah, it says "behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction."  In a bigger picture, Isaiah says this, addressing the Jews in Babylon-- the fact that they're toiling and suffering in a foreign and heathen nation, it's all going to be for their own good.  God pretty much says a similar thing to Joseph Smith as he was in that varmint-ridden hellhole of a prison in Missouri.

     While living on this place that we call Earth, the challenges we have are actually very precious to us-- it allows us to be stronger and shinier than we were before.  We gain wisdom from adversity.  We gain strength from our falls.  Our burdens are the heavy-laden fruits in which we can reap from if we can toil and labor through, carrying it as far as God wants of us.

     What if the fruit is too heavy for us to carry?  What if I don't think it's worth the effort carrying such a weight?  Notice again that there's something that helps the weight become lighter.  Of course, God will give us just enough to handle, but at times it'll feel like He's giving us too much.  If we drop to our knees, clasping our hands together and just pray for the strength, He will give it to us so that we will be able to carry that weight-- His hand will help us.

     Nothing is impossible with God.  All things good can only result in further good, even if it may not seem like it yields any results.  You'll see the fruit soon enough.  As through the trials I have gone through here, I know that this is true.  It'll turn into something you're definitely going to enjoy.

You're one of them!

     Imagine walking in rather uncomfortable leather shoes for months and months and months up and down a dirty, grassy path from the East coast to the Southwest-- with very little to eat.  Now imagine doing that while lugging around an oversized wheelbarrow.  For many, it was done so that that they could receive the blessings of the holy temple that they so longed for.  It was a determination of faith that pushed them through such harrowing ordeal-- they paved the way for others to get to Zion-- they were the first; they were the pioneers.

     Now, imagine yourself like this.  For all the immigrant families out there, maybe you were born here in America while your parents came over here from whatever country far, far away.  You may not know of the toils your parents may have gone through to rear you here in such a land of promise-- taking menial occupations earning meager sums just to make ends meet.  This was the lifestyle for them for quite some time.  Why?  Because they didn't want you going through that same struggle.  Your parents wanted you to live comfortably, so they paved a way so that you can do exactly that.  They were the first.

     People who join the church, recently or not so recently, have a rather odd feeling about how they got to it in the first place.  They wonder, "did I make the right choice, being here," midst their burning testimonies and the missionary reassurances.  The ward may help them as much as possible, but it's really up to the changed man to find out what he exactly did.  He may have abandoned his family, perhaps even become estranged with them, to find the truth.  He may have struggled with the social and even economic aspects of life-- dropping jobs just to go to church on Sunday; mocked by friends and coworkers about his decision and faith.  It's no easy task, trekking and toiling through the times of being so new.

     Two years ago, I had a chance to visit my aunt and uncle in Gilbert, Arizona.  I was baptized a month prior to the visit and I thought it would be a splendid break from all the things going on back east.  Upon arrival, I was further introduced to extended relatives who are active members of the same church-- let's call them Steve, Aaron, and Britta-- they were just so kind and friendly-- like typical Mormons.  At first, I thought to myself, "I wonder if I'm going to be like that in the near future."  So I disregarded the notion and enjoyed myself in the Arizona sun.  Sunday came along and the topic of the service was that of the Mormon exodus to the Great Salt Lake.  I wasn't very familiar with it at the time, so when I heard the words like "handcarts," "testimony," and "pioneer," I just assumed that the people going through the Oregon trail were Mormon-- nothing too special.  It wasn't until later that I realized the impact that these early Latter-day Saints had on the growth and the strength of the church.

     In the last part of the service, Britta wrote something on a piece of paper and showed it to me--

     "You're a pioneer."

     Never in my life had a single, simple sentence affected me to the magnitude that it does now.  In my [immediate] family, I am the first; I am a pioneer.

     For the newly baptised and those who dropped everything to do the things that they do-- because they knew in their hearts that it was the right thing to do-- let's link arms; let's hold hands.  We can be united in the cause.  There's no need to be alone and there is most certainly no need to worry.  People like this are everywhere; it's just a matter of finding them and rejoicing with them.  Heck, there was a whole group of them called the Willie Martin Handcart Company.

If Knot-ical Nonsense be Something You Wish

When someone hand sews something with a fairly lengthy piece of thread, this rookie mistake comes up every so often.  In some random, inexplicable way, the thread you were working with just suddenly knots itself and leaves a little loop there making you unable to use the that length of thread.  Pretty much, that little unruly knot tells you that you have to start up the needle all over again and start where you left off.  If you ever have put a thread into an eye of a needle, you probably know how difficult that is.

I like to think of life something similar to this little charade.  While you're just pushing in the needle and pushing it out, leaving a trail of speckled color in the fabric, life just goes on; a usual sequence of events-- a typical everyday.  However, once in a while, just out of the blue, there comes along one of these guys who just completely throws off your progress, skewing you from what you aimed on doing.  Oh crap.  What do I do?  Should I just thread the fabric like this or should I redo the stitching from where this guy ruined it?  Inevitably, it ends up where the thread is cut-- either with scissors or from it snapping in an attempt to sew through it.

Contemplating no other alternative, no matter how hard you try, you just kind of have to start where you left off, sewing away.  Once you run out of yarn, you replace it-- sometime later, the same little knot will come up.  From the past experiences before, you think you know how to deal with the problems.  Always, though, it brings a troubling feeling that you have to start over-- the fact that the progress you're making came to a screeching halt.  It'll occur frequently.  It'll seldom occur.  More likely than not, it is the Will of God determining what happens.  He knows the challenges you can handle, and it'll never be more than you can bear; it's up to you to use it to your own good and it's up to you to handle it-- God gave us agency for a reason.

"Come Fly with Me"

     Couple of weeks ago, a friend and a schoolmate of mine was allured by the seducing whispering of the knife.   This was a friend whom I met this summer and had a chance to get to know pretty well.   With his sudden loss, there was definitely a void somewhere in my soul-- no matter how significant anyone is to you, the little acquantanceship that you make with another will leave a fine impression and a remembrance in your heart that can be visibly and noticeably empty as the person passes across the veil; I want to very well say that that's human nature (I'll explain that in a bit).  

     As the community around him was taken pretty hard, even if they didn't know who he was, I thought about the afterlife a whole bunch. In the mission field, it's a hard thing coping with grief and doing the work of The Lord at the same time-- you're supposed to preach a gospel-- a good news-- yet the people see you noticeably distressed.   Personally, I am absolutely terrible when it comes to hiding emotions, so people notice right away. I wondered, though, there's this thing called "The Plan of Salvation" that we teach-- it says that once we pass on, there's a realm before resurrection where we're either in a paradise" or a "prison."  Not only that, the people in prison have an opportunity to hear the truth so that they may be lifted into paradise-- Jesus was one of those people proclaiming the truth to the prisoners (see 1 Peter 3:18-19).   So in essence, if you're willing to hear, you're saved.   If you're willing to follow Christ and accept His gospel, you'll be living with him when the day comes when you see God again.

      Except one thing-- even if we know the assurances of others and their salvation in the post-mortal realm, does that mean that we shouldn't be mourning but rejoicing that, as cliche as it sounds, "he is in a better place?"  This is the interesting little part: although we know full well the destinations of others, the fact that they are not here and we have to wait quite a while to see our significant ones again leaves us with loneliness in this life.  The fact that they are no longer here but there yearns us to want to see that person again, which we cannot.  To be grieving is to express your feeling that you miss someone a lot.  You're almost never sad that he or she died, but you're sad that you won't see that person again for a very long time.

     Take our church leaders for example-- from Howard W. Hunter to Thomas S. Monson-- as amazing and selfless as they are, they mourn and the weep at the passing of their friends and family. With the knowledge and wisdom that they know, you'd think they would spare the time to mourn! No-- these men of God are human too; they weep because they miss their loved ones. Human nature is built upon the foundation of God's nature. As we weep and mourn for those whom we miss, God does so with us as well. God weeps and mourns if we die spiritually. If we just live an unpleasant life, doing all sorts of bad things, God knows what, we die in the inside.   Once we do, God misses us. Until we can repent and become worthy to be with Him again, He's sad; he's crying for us.

     Let me just bear you my witness that this is the nature of God. With the trials that we all go through, life is not easy-- it was never meant to be easy. Even with assurances and relief that we will return to a better place than here, it's not easy accepting that fact for others.   Only time and God can heal the emptiness wrought upon by grief.   Arduous the process is, it can teach us a lot about ourselves.