You Fantastic Fish You.*

Sunday I had the opportunity to be home taught after church. We were all a bit unorganized and none of us had read the First Presidency message yet (normally we all try to read it beforehand). So our home teacher read the title "Peace, Be Still" and we went from there. It was probably one of my favorite times being home taught...ever. I don't know if it was because we were unprepared and therefore we were more open to discuss what was on our minds as it pertained to the title of the article, but whatever it was, I feel like I heard exactly what I needed to hear.


Our home teacher likes boats, so he was explaining how some boats work. Sadly, I can't remember the name of the part he was explaining (we’ll call it fin so that I don’t keep saying “random part I can’t remember”), but he said that most boats have it, and in some you can pull it up out of the water. When the fin is bigger, it makes the boat more buoyant and better able to handle when the waters get rough. If it is small, or pulled up, the boat has greater speed (I hope I’m remembering this right). Anyway, he then compared the boats to members of the church. He said that a convert (such as himself) comes in to the water and they have a small fin and are going quickly through the water, trying to learn all they can learn. Whereas someone who has been a member of the church all of their lives as a bigger fin, so they don’t move as quickly, but when the waters get rough, they are more anchored.

Then he asked each of us what we do when the waters get rough. I thought this was a poignant question, mostly because I have been going through a rough time. When he talked about “rough waters” I truly felt like that’s what my past week or so has been, rough waters. He asked me first (cause when he asks questions, Vivienne and I look at each other to see who should answer first and I typically end up answering first). I didn’t know how to answer him, because to be honest, I hadn’t felt that I had been as anchored as he thought I might have been. I first told him it was an excellent question, then told him how I loved the analogy, and then…I tried to think about what I do when the waters get rough. It was good for me to reflect on what my options are and what I had done. I told him honestly that often times I forget about all the support that the Lord offers; Home teachers, priesthood blessings, friends who understand, a loving bishop who wants us to be happy, prayer, scriptures, etc. Last week, my dear, sweet friend reminded me that Priesthood Blessings were an option. I was in Institute at the time, so right after class I asked Christian and Chris to give me a blessing. I needed peace, I needed direction, but I got much more. I find that the Lord does that a lot, I ask for something that I feel is big and more than enough for what I need, and he offers me more, because he knows I need more. It just takes the act of asking for the one thing, for opening yourself up for his counsel, and if you let him in, he’ll give you what is best for you.
I think sometimes the devil would have you believe that you are alone, that there is no one you can turn to, but the Lord offers so many ways to find comfort. I’m not saying this as someone who has figured it out, but rather someone still trying to figure it out. What do you do when you are feeling down, when you feel that you aren’t good enough or aren’t DOING enough? What do you do when you feel like you can’t fight these negative feelings, but you know you have to?

We had excellent talks on Sunday about healing. The first speaker quoted a BYU devotional from several years ago and the woman said, “We may pray for a cure, when what we require is healing.” The speaker explained that a cure is something that is almost instantaneous, while healing is a lifelong process. Just like with my ankle, I wish it would get better quickly and I could move on with life, but it’s been a long process and it’s still not all the way back to where it was. It will take more time, more work, more pain.

The first talk ended with a quote from Russell M. Nelson.

“Real joy awaits each of us – on the other side of sorrow.”