I read Ether last week. I'm trying to finish the Book of Mormon. The kids having minimum days has hurt my routine. I usually read while I'm waiting for them at the school--no waiting; no reading. I'm almost there. Anyway, the book of Ether has many, many important lessons, the first being pick your friends carefully.
When Jared and his brother's language is not confounded and they are still able to communicate with each other, the next thing they ask for is that they may also have some of their friends "not confounded" either. (I'm sure that was the most awkward way to say that but. . .) It makes me think who I would want to take with me into the wilderness. If there were only going to be a few families together and times were going to be tough, do I have friends that I would want to count on?
Yes, but I'm not sure if I have 11. That's the number that sticks in my head as to how many there were. Let's see:
Do my brother's count? No, I'll assume they don't--they are already there.
Campbells
Molens
Colborns
Powells, maybe--haven't talked to them forever.
Families that we trust, rely on and get along with. Question is would any of them pick us?
Messers
Johnsons
Bonds
Esplins
Parkers
Phipps
I don't know. They are all really good families. We aren't super close with these, but I can look over the list and feel good that none of them would fall to the dark side.
Keith would probably have more ideas.
If we were all together living fairly well on a beach somewhere like they were, would we stop asking "what next?" The brother of Jared got chastised pretty harshly and was stuck in that spot for 4 years when there was a better place waiting--because he quit praying about what to do.
That sounds pretty common. We don't always ask when things are good--or even fair. Maybe the brother of Jared thought, "I did what you said, I'm here in this place where you led me. If you want me to go somewhere else, where's the cloud that led me here? Where are you now?"
When the brother of Jared finally did start asking again, he was pretty humble. He asked God not to get angry with him again when he proposed the stones lighting up. He started with, "I know I'm just a dumb mortal but. . ."
I wonder a lot about the journeys Heavenly Father sends us on. He does things in such weird ways sometimes. Lehi and Jared are only 2 examples.
When God was ready to restore his church to the earth, He knew that it was Joseph Smith that would be the one to do it. He knew the geography of where it needed to happen. There were thousands of ways the Smith family could have gotten to Palmyra, NY. Why did they need their crops to fail 3 consecutive years in Vermont? Why did they need to be nearly destitute? They were good people--the best people on the planet in the context of this story. Why did God try them to the breaking point?
Yes, I know the Sunday School answer and I know the scriptural answer: God tries those He loves. He gives all of us the opportunity to prove to him that we will choose Him; that we will serve Him; and that we won't falter. I get that. I guess I even get that if the trials of Joseph's childhood hadn't come, then perhaps he wouldn't have been prepared for the trials that came later.
And Yet. I still wonder why? I still ask, "Is there no other way?"
Aren't there any lessons that aren't worth the trials we go through in order to learn? It seems to me that there are weak, yet happy, people all around me. How do I reconcile that with the concept that God is no respecter of persons and loves all of his children and wants success for every last one of them? I'm not stupid or proud or whatever enough to think that I'm stronger or more able to withstand more trials than anyone else. On the other hand, I'm not naive enough to think that my trials are even close to the worst there is.
I hope it's okay to wonder. There are thousands of years of history in the scriptures and I'm supposed to read it and learn from it and get to know those people and see myself in their lessons, so I hope it's okay to scratch my head and say, "If God wanted it to be that way, why didn't He just say so?"
It's a rambling. I'm rambling today.
