Journeying
into Faith
By Richard
Eyre
Editor's note:
This weekly column focuses on physical and spiritual journeys,
the autumn of life, notes on life's passage, and the life of a
seeker. Read the first column here.
Journey
As I sat in Sunday School this week,
my mind wandered to what I would write for this column. We had
not traveled or "journeyed" anywhere since we got home
from China, so I wondered what I would put in this first section.
But as often happens in church, I
just listened to the lesson, and one thought led to another. We
were talking about John the Baptist and about why Nephi said we
must be baptized, and a different kind of journey began to materialize
in my mind. Focus with me for a minute on verses 18-20 of 2 Nephi
31:
Autumn
Besides the journey into faith, there
is always the journey into time. The thing that helps us most
dramatically to see the pace of this travel is our grandchildren.
Without them, we might think our time travel is pretty slow. I
swear I still feel like I did when I was 30 or 35! I even try
to swear that I still look the same. I can deny the mirror some
days, or not notice it very much. But I can't deny 16 grandkids
who each seem to double in size and cleverness and maturity each
time I see them. Their rapid journey into time testifies and reminds
me of my own. Their early spring testifies of my entry into autumn.
But oh, the richness of this season.
The color of it makes summer seem drab. The gifts overwhelm! How
could any other gift compare with a new grandson (son number four
expecting grandchild number 17) or with a new daughter (son number
five engaged to daughter-to-be)!
And then I hear on the news last
night that exercise and weight-lifting can even reverse aging
in some ways, and that dark chocolate is good for the heart! Then
someone tells me that 60 is the new 40 (and I believe him!)
Of course you also wake up with a
new ache or pain, and some are serious, but it all adds to who
we are and where we are and where we are going.
Notes
I have decided that the first four
principles of the Gospel are also the deepest four principles.
How long did Joseph probe faith, and his "lectures"
on the subject just proved the principle bottomless.
I started thinking about the second
principle one day last month as I jogged on a golden beach in
Australia. I caught a glimpse of a shell lying on the sand. "That
was a nice one," I thought as I sped by. "I ought to
pick it up and bring it home." But I was well past by then,
and it would slow me down if I turn around, and there would be
other shells up ahead.
But you know what? That was a great
shell, and I may not see another one, so I turned around and went
back for it.
The hardest kind of repenting, I
think, is on the sins of omission. We pass a motorist with a flat
tire, and we think, "That will slow me down. I'm already
past; it would be hard to turn around. Someone else will stop
to help him."
Too busy to stop, too hard to help,
too inconvenient to listen. A beggar on the street, someone sitting
alone in church, a new move-in down the block. I'm already passed,
someone else will stop, he'll be all right. They are all the wrong
assumptions, the wrong conclusions.
Some people (my wife for one) have
natural empathy, inherent compassion, automatic tendencies toward
nurturing and helping and understanding. Others, like myself,
feel a skill and an aptitude for empathy, but know we have to
develop it by practice and by determination and by resolution.
But oh, is it worth it! Because repentance
is harder when it comes to sins of omission than it is on sins
of commission. Think about it. When we commit a sin, we are often
able to undo it, or at least make restitution and try to correct
it, even long after the fact. But with a sin of omission, the
moment passes, or the person passes, or we pass, and we may never
have the chance again.
Seeker
So let’s ask the question again
this week: What are we seeking? There is no all encompassing answer,
I suppose, but keep sharing your thoughts on this with me (I love
the e mails I get each week.) The best answer I have is that I
am seeking to love more! There is no end of things to learn to
love in this world.
As I write, I am looking out at a
snowy pine covered mountain and I feel a love for nature and for
this world. That leads to a love for its Creator. Linda is lying,
still asleep this early morning, next to where I sit, and I am
overwhelmed with love for her as my partner and soul mate, and
that love also leads to a love for God and for the three-way partnership
we strive to have with Him. I look up at a pattern we have on
our ceiling that represents each of our kids, and I'm grateful
for a deeper love than I thought possible for them, which connects
again to the love I feel for their (and my) true Father.
But even as I feel all these loves,
I know there is more. I know I need to love more, I know I am
deficient and far from what is possible in the pure love of Christ
that we call charity. I know I take so much for granted, a tendency
that always robs us of love. I know there are people I don't love
enough because of my selfishness, and blessings I don't love enough
because of my lack of awareness and perspective.
May we all keep learning to love,
and to love more, and more, and more. May we learn from He who
loves all, and who gives all. See you next week.