Finding Peace in the Year of Feeling Forgotten

Over a year ago I wrote a post cataloging the difficulties I had experienced in the 2016 and 2017. I wrote that I felt at times that I was forsaken and alone, yet as I recounted the challenges I had experienced, I found that I had received needed help.

See: There is Always Hope

It might have been reasonable to expect, then, that 2018 should have been better, yet it was not.

After a few years of unemployment or underemployment, I still had a steady job, which was good, and that job had previously given me the opportunity to be a trainer, which was awesome. Trainer was a great thing to put on the resume, and I wondered if I should not try to find a better job. But I wanted to be a trainer again -- because, again, it was a blast, and also to beef up that part of the resume -- so I stayed.

In the spring I interviewed for a promotion to permanent trainer. Part of the interview process involved giving a presentation, to demonstrate skills in front of a classroom. I thought I gave a great presentation, but they didn't think it was hands-on enough. There were three spots open, and I finished fourth in the running -- and the margin between three and four was paper thin.

As I thought about what I could have done differently, and not being able to think of anything that involved actual hands, I decided that next time I would repackage it as a minds-on presentation, selling it as an exercise in analyzing verbal and visual information -- which happens to be a useful skill in a call center.

It was either the same day I heard I didn't get the promotion or the day following when I went for a walk on main street in my smallish town. I was trying to listen to an audio book on my earbuds, but was distracted by the not getting a promotion thing. Suddenly I saw an old high school friend up ahead, walking toward me. 

This friend and I had had a falling out of sorts a few years ago. She showed up at a social media site I had been at for a few years and when I sent a friend request, she unexpectedly blocked me. But it took a few months for me to realize it. I didn't know if there was a problem, I didn't understand why, but I tried to find a way to communicate with her and apologize for anything I might have done. Eventually I was able to do that through a mutual friend: the only response I got back was that I was forgiven, but that she did not want to talk. She also said that I should just move on. Move on from what? Frankly, this didn't really feel like forgiveness.

A couple of years later, the father of a different mutual friend passed away. I knew there was a very good chance I would see her at the funeral, and I did! I found a place to sit, looked up, and there she was sitting two rows in front of me. The person she was sitting with saw me, but she never turned around to look, and after the service she got up and walked out without ever turning her head. It was surreal!

I saw her next at our 30th high school reunion in 2017. As the reunion was approaching, I felt like I was becoming a basket case, stressing about how she was going to react if and when she saw me. At the reunion, most of the evening passed without our being in close proximity, though I was very aware of her presence on the other side of the large room. Finally, before leaving, I maneuvered into a position where she would be sure to see me -- because I had to know what she would do. We just looked at each other for a moment, no words were exchanged, and then she turned and walked away.

The next day, I talked with the same mutual friend who had acted as go-between before, wondering if I should try to make a peace offering. She talked me out of it, but then got a call from our friend, and on her own initiative broached the idea of a peace offering. The answer from my old friend was that the offering was not necessary, that there were no hard feelings. I decided that this would have to be enough to give me peace, and I figured I probably would not see her for another ten years, anyway, until the next reunion.

But now, several months later, here we were on Main Street, approaching each other. She must have seen me first, because she had her hand up by her eye -- like you do when you don't want someone to see you. It all happened so fast, and I was so distracted by not getting the promotion at work, that at first I told myself it might not have been her. I tried to tell myself it was only 50-50, but as time passed, and I thought less about not getting the promotion, the more certain I became that it was her -- there had been no wind, and we were in the shade -- the only thing that made sense was that she was trying to hide from me.

By small and simple things, great things can be brought to pass, but also not so great things. We have no idea how much good we can do with a kind word or a smile. At the same time, we have no idea how a much damage we can do with a careless word or a simple joke, even a simple act of omission.

The promotion, this encounter on Main Street, were like a one-two punch; I have felt as though I were torn asunder. It has been a battle ever since, sticking it out at a job that is often frustrating, and feeling rejected by someone I thought of as a best friend in high school. I started, again, to question everything about myself and about friendship. Yes, I was hurt, and I didn't understand why she did what she did. But I was trying not to hold a grudge, and so I turned the anger onto myself.

I felt so much shame, what could I have done that led my old friend to cut me out of her life? This person I admire so much has, it seems, a smile for everyone but me. I wondered, what small and simple thing had caused her so much pain that after several years she still could not acknowledge me; wondering brought more shame.

This became a struggle of many months; I could find no solace, no peace, even when turning to the scriptures or attending church meetings. One day I read one of my favorite chapters in the Book of Mormon, Moroni 7, but instead of finding serenity, I felt my heart break. 

Then I saw a quote from President Thomas S. Monson: "Blame keeps wounds open. Only forgiveness heals."

This was distressing. I didn't think I needed to forgive because, I told myself, I was not carrying a grudge. I was not thinking angry thoughts about my old friend, I was not hoping for bad things to happen to her. I had prayed for my friend, that she might have peace -- I had even prayed that God would send her ministering angels. Yet there I was, where I had been for a long time, in the depths of despair.

Finally I said, "[My friend], I forgive you." And peace gradually enveloped my soul.

Rather than this being the end, it was only a beginning. I found that I had to keep forgiving; as time wore on, the doubts and the frustration would return, so again I would say "[My friend], I forgive you."

I could find peace, for awhile, but my heart was not healing. Even so, though I felt alone and forgotten, I was not. Even in 2018, there were moments when I experienced genuine friendship from others. Such moments have seemingly become more common in 2019.

I have truly been blessed in recent months by friends both old and new. I felt forgotten for so long, but not anymore. Genuine compliments and genuine kindness have managed to counter rather effectively the many doubts I had over previous months and years.

I may even have had a breakthrough recently when I realized that, while everything might not be perfect, there are good things happening. I have had worse jobs than the one I currently have -- 
which has been a steady job for approaching four years -- and I am getting by financially.

Perhaps more importantly, the friends I do have matter much more than any friends I might not have or not have any longer.  All that negative stuff I have been spending so much time thinking about, I don't have to keep doing that. It is time to let go and be happy.

By looking to the lighthouse of the Lord, by counting my blessings, by forgiving, but also importantly, by the blessing of true friendship, I have found peace and, finally, my heart is beginning to heal.

The Prom Series

Throughout 2017 I made a series of posts here regarding the my high school years. The stories centered around the junior prom and the three girls I asked to each of the dances during that period. Some day I might put those stories in a book, but for now, here are the links to those posts collected all in one place:


Series 1: A Prom Story

Past is Prologue

The story actually begins almost two years before the first Junior Prom, when I went to a stake dance and tripped the light fantastic for the first time with Julie. Over the next 18 months there were more dances, and soon I was experiencing feelings of attraction.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/02/a-prom-story-past-is-prologue.html

A Natural Thing

I was now a sophomore in high school, and Julie sat in front of me everyday in one of my classes. These were magical days, when everything was wonderful, and I believed I was falling in love.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/02/a-prom-story-natural-thing.html

"We've Got Tonight"

After finally turning sixteen I asked Julie to the Junior Prom. Julie was radiant that night, and for me it was an enchanted evening.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/02/a-prom-story-weve-got-tonight.html

After the Fall

In the months after the prom I bounced around between hope and despair. I asked Julie out a few times, only to be rebuffed. I would try to forget about her, but then a brief encounter would suggest the possibility that she might still like me.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-prom-story-after-fall.html


Series 2: Prom Story

New Beginnings

With my love for Julie unrequited, I met a new girl, a sweet angel. But this time I would be more careful, this time I would build a solid friendship before I asked her out. As my junior year began, I had a plan to be more outgoing, and this led to meeting many new friends.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/06/prom-story-new-beginnings.html

The More Things Change

This is the one where I win the award for overthinking. Over the Christmas break I asked Mary to the junior prom, but on New Year's Eve I was strangely flooded with thoughts about Julie.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/06/prom-story-more-things-change.html

She First Said Yes

Mary waited several weeks before finally saying yes, but the next night she called to cancel. My heart was broken, but I accepted her choice. This would lead me to make a major life decision.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/06/prom-story.html

The Winter of My Discontent

In the aftermath of the prom I didn't go to, I had to find a way to deal with my feelings for Julie, and my heartbreak over Mary's decision to cancel our date. I talked with both girls, and in one case we became better friends.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/07/prom-story-winter-of-my-discontent.html


Series 3: Prom

The Third Girl

I had met Evelyn during the fall of my junior year, and by the next spring our friendship had progressed to point where I could have fallen for her. But I had made a decision to wait until after my mission to have a girlfriend. Even so, Evelyn would become one of my best friends.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/07/prom-third-girl.html

It Could Have Been You

Meanwhile, just being friends with Julie proved to be a challenge. This time we were both stirred up, and as winter approached, the storm broke.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/07/prom-it-could-have-been-you.html

"Just For a Moment"

Even as the storm raged, I asked Evelyn to the junior prom. The evening started out well enough, at least until we walked into Symphony Hall, the same venue for the prom two years earlier.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/07/prom-just-for-moment.html

"No Man Is An Island"

While Julie and I debated what a friend was supposed to be, I began to wonder at the very meaning of friendship. At times, I may have expected too much from my friends, but at other times I doubted that I had a right to any expectations at all.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/07/prom-no-man-is-island.html


A Two Part Interlude: The Ball

New Perspectives

Even as I struggled with feelings of loneliness during the winter of my senior year, my perspective began to change. Somehow, things got better.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-ball-new-perspectives.html

Creating Memories

I asked Gabrielle to the Senior Ball, and we both had a wonderful time.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-ball-creating-memories.html


Series 4: After Prom

The Unicorn

The summer after I graduated from high school, Julie's family moved away, and only then did I find peace. Years later someone suggested that Julie had been my unicorn.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/08/after-prom-unicorn.html

Angels

If Julie was my unicorn, Mary was my angel. As it turned out, however, there were other angels in my life.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/08/after-prom-angels.html

Paragon

I had made a mistake in high school when I put my new found friends up on pedestals. Evelyn had become one of my best friends, and her pedestal became the tallest.

http://goodtidingsforus.blogspot.com/2017/09/after-prom-paragon.html

Leaving Kirtland: How Deep is Our Commitment to the Gospel?

In my last post I wrote about my great great great grandfather Frederick G. Williams, who joined the church in Kirtland, Ohio, and traveled with Oliver Cowdery, Peter Whitmer Jr., Parley P. Pratt and Ziba Peterson on their mission to the native Americans living in the Indian territories.

Williams was later called to be the second counselor in the First Presidency, he donated land to the church for the construction of buildings to further the work of kingdom, and he saw an angel at the dedication of the Kirtland temple -- the angel was also identified as the Savior. But there were also trials; there were disagreements regarding his role as a justice of the peace, an argument with the prophet Joseph Smith regarding business affairs of the Kirtland Safety Society, and his daughter married a man who would be less than faithful to the church.

The saints had experienced difficulties in building up the Kingdom of God in Ohio and in Jackson Country, Missouri. Yet this was followed by the Pentecostal experience at the dedication of the Kirtland temple. Such a marvelous experience as this, however, failed to provide protection in the troubles that followed, and some fell away, like many of those Lehi saw in his dream, to wander off in forbidden paths. Others went through the same experiences, but remained faithful through still more trials in Missouri and Illinois.

Despite the trials he experienced, it could be said that President Williams had success, prominence and spritual fulfillment in Kirtland. When he left Kirtland, he would lose almost everything. At a conference in Missouri, members refused to sustain him as second counselor in the First Presidency and he lost this position. An invalid son, whose healing had been promised if he and his wife remained faithful, passed away. His son-in-law became involved with other members turning against the church and collaborating with its enemies. Finally, Williams would be excommunicated from the church as the saints departed for Illinois.

A descendant of Frederick G Williams would speculate that he suffered guilt by association as he tried to mediate with his son-in-law and others who were turning against the church, trying to persuade them to return to the fold. Additionally, Williams was absent when the saints were making the trek to Illinois, and many who were absent at that time were excommunicated.

Williams may, however, have been absent because of his work in settling an estate belonging to a member of the church, for which he spent three days in court in Far West in March 1839. The business of settling the estate allowed Williams to visit Joseph Smith who was then in Liberty Jail.

In later years, Brigham Young appeared to admit a mistake had been made when he would teasingly ask Frederick's wife Rebecca if she had forgiven him yet -- she would teasingly answer that she had not.

It is certainly possible that Williams had committed an offense worthy of being excommunicated, but no documentation can be found regarding what that offense might have been. Even so, when Joseph Smith arrived in Illinois, he counseled Frederick G. Williams to submit himself before the church and ask for forgiveness. Williams did so in April 1840, and was received back into the fellowship of the church.

There may have been some hard feelings following this episode, however, as Dr. Williams chose to set up his medical practice in the town of Quincy, rather than in Nauvoo. Still, Williams remained faithful until his death in October 1842, at the age of fifty-four.

Not long before his passing, he and his wife paid a visit to the Prophet Joseph in Nauvoo. On a carriage ride, Joseph took a turn too quickly and overturned the carriage. As they parted, the prophet said that he hated to see Frederick leave, for he was going home to die.

Frederick's wife, Rebecca, and his son, Ezra, would cross the plains to settle in the valley of the Great Salt Lake. Ezra Williams would establish the first hospital west of the Mississippi in 1852, when the Williamses converted their spacious two-story, seven room adobe home, which stood at 44 East North Temple in Salt Lake City.

Despite everything he had lost, despite the difficulties he had experienced, Frederick G. Williams remained faithful to the end. Whatever disagreements he may have had, even emotional scars, what mattered to him was that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God and that the Book of Mormon was the word of God. His commitment to the gospel was deep enough that he died full in the faith.

His wife, Rebecca, experienced her own trials, on top of those she shared with Frederick. When she joined the church she was rejected by her parents, who refused to answer her attempts to communicate with them by letter. As noted, she would cross the plains with her son to gather with the saints in Zion. She then endured slanderous statements against her late husband -- some charged that he had been part of the mob at Carthage, despite proceeding his friend Joseph in death by almost two years. Like her husband, and many of their descendants, she stayed true to the faith.

Will we be able to say the same thing?  We live in a world, it seems, where personal attacks are okay, but standing up for your beliefs is not. In the church, "he said/she said" disagreements or other actions by imperfect people drive others from the church because they are offended. Others, despite such wounds, choose to remain faithful, to continue holding fast to the rod of iron.

Others find the price of enduring to the end to be too high. Some may sacrifice their principles to avoid a life of loneliness. Some may decide that the standards are too exacting.

"People have never failed to follow Jesus Christ because His standards were imprecise or insufficiently high," said President Russell M. Nelson in 1995. "Quite to the contrary. Some have disregarded His teachings because they were viewed as being too precise or impractically high! Yet such lofty standards, when earnestly pursued, produce great inner peace and incomparable joy."

What will we do? Will we hold to the iron rod and endure what trials may come, or will we lose heart and let go? Will we become dismayed or discontent? Will we wander off in the darkness? How deep is our commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ?


Sources:

Williams, F. G. (2012). The Life of Dr. Frederick G. Williams: Counselor to the Prophet Joseph Smith. Provo, Utah: BYU Studies.

Nelson, R. M. (1995) "Perfection Pending." Ensign, November, accessed at: https://www.lds.org/ensign/1995/11/perfection-pending?lang=eng&_r=1

The Mission to the Lamanites and the Conversion of Frederick G. Williams

The prophet Joseph Smith received revelations in the fall 1830 calling Oliver Cowdery, Peter Whitmer Jr., Parley P. Pratt and Ziba Peterson on a mission to the Lamanites -- the native Americans then living in the Indian territories bordering the state of Missouri. Just four months earlier, President Andrew Jackson had signed the Indian Removal Act. Even before the act became law, the Shawnee and Delaware Indians had begun moving from Ohio to the territories in 1828-29; both tribes would settle near the Kansas River, just west of the Missouri border.

Leaving in late October, the four missionaries soon arrived in northern Ohio; this was an area popularly known as the Western Reserve because during the colonial period it had been allotted to Connecticut as a "western reserve." Parley Pratt was already familiar with the area, having lived in Amherst. In fact, Parley had studied under Sidney Rigdon, then a prominent minister in the area.

While in the area, Parley persuaded his companions to visit Rigdon in Mentor, Ohio ere they would stay for four weeks, baptizing some one hundred converts, before continuing on to Missouri. Pratt and Cowdery bore testimony of the truthfulness of the restored gospel; while Rigdon was not immediately converted, he did allow the missionaries to preach their message in his church.

Many members of Rigdon's congregation live in Kirtland, a village five miles away from Mentor. The elders went door-knocking in the village and over a period of four weeks they baptized about 127 converts. These efforts more than doubled the membership of the church.

Among those baptized in Kirtland were Frederick and Rebecca Williams.  Frederick Granger Williams, a doctor and a prominent member of the community, at first had some reservations about the restored gospel as taught by the four elders. "The Elders presented him a book of Mormon which he was determined not to read," wrote Lucy Ellen Williams Godfrey, Frederick's granddaughter, many years later.  "He would read a little would lay it away but soon was reading it again. He became converted and was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints."

Once converted, Dr. Williams was ready to give his all to the work.  "When the Elders were going on they desired F. G. Williams to accompany them," wrote Lucy Godfrey, "which he did furnishing part of the outfit which left his wife alone with four small children to get a long as best she could. He was gone ten months on this mission to the Indians."

Another descendent of Dr. Williams, his biographer who also happens to share his name, has written: "By accepting the invitation to serve, Williams in effect became the first 'senior' missionary in this dispensation, as well as one of the first married missionaries of the restored Church to leave his family for an extended period.  His willingness to sacrifice the comforts of home and family for a season in order to serve the Lord -- while paying his own way and at the same time supporting the missions of others -- would be a pattern that thousands more would emulate over the years."

The missionaries traveled south to the Ohio River, and along the way, the elders continued to preach to all who would listen. "Some wished to learn and obey the fullness of the gospel," wrote Parley P. Pratt. "Others were filled with envy, rage and lying."

On his return to Amherst, Parley would be arrested, tried and convicted on a frivolous charge. Lacking the money to pay the fine, the missionary had to spend the night locked in public inn. The next morning he was allowed to go his way when he challenged his surprised jailer to a race.

From there the missionary went to Sandusky, where they preached among the Wyandot tribe, before continuing on to Cincinnati. By steamboat they proceeded to St. Louis, then, as it was late in the year and there was ice at the mouth of the river, they proceeded by foot, in deep snow -- the winter of 1830-31 was remembered as the winter of the deep snow -- across Missouri to Independence, Jackson County.

As it would happen, the elders, on their arrival in western Missouri, did not receive permission from the Indian agent of the U.S. government to preach among the native Americans. Still, Oliver Cowdery, Parley Pratt and Frederick Williams were able to cross the border into the territories to introduce the Book of Mormon to forty tribal leaders, including William Anderson, the chief of the Delawares -- his father was Scandinavian while his mother was a native American.

Despite the limited success among the indians, the mission to the Lamanites would nonetheless have a major impact on the church and its history. The Saints in New York would soon decide to move to Kirtland, Ohio and, after the prophet Joseph received a revelation declaring it to be Zion, to Independence, Missouri.  Frederick G. Williams would first meet the prophet in Independence before traveling with him back to Kirtland.

The prophet Joseph once said that "Brother Frederick G. Williams is one of those men in whom I place the greatest confidence and trust, for I have found him ever full of love and brotherly kindness. He is not a man of many words, but is ever winning, because of his constant mind."

Years later, in August 1841, Parley P. Pratt would write an open letter from Manchester, England, to the authorities and members of the church, in which he would recall the mission to the Lamanites and the elders with which he served:

"It is now eleven years since I first embraced the fullness of the gospel. . . .  I was one of those who took the first mission to the western states, in which the fullness of the gospel was first introduced into Ohio (commencing at Kirtland,) Indiana, Illinois and Missouri, and into the Indian territory, among the Lamanites.

"When countless millions shall throng to the courts of the New Jerusalem which is soon to be built in Jackson County, Missouri, upon the consecrated spot, then perhaps it may be remembered that in 1830, in the depth of a howling winter five men penetrated Missouri's wilds, and traveled on foot from St. Louis to Independence, Jackson County, wading in snow to the knees the greater part of the way for 300 miles; and all this as may be said, without money or friends, except as they made them. These are the first footsteps ever made in that state by Latter day Saints -- these first placed their feet upon that holy ground, where shall stand the great temple of our God, the resort of nations, and the joy of the whole earth. . . .

"Of those five men, Peter Whitmer is now in his grave, two [Oliver Cowdery and Ziba Peterson] are turned away from the fellowship of the church, and the other two, F. G. Williams and myself are yet alive, and blessed with the grace of God we are yet counted worthy of a place among you. Thus I find myself a monument of mercy, spared like an oak amid the tempest, and to God be ascribed all the glory; for were it not for his peculiar longsuffering and goodness I might now have been an outcast from the commonwealth of Israel, or cut down by untimely death without beholding in this life the establishment of Zion."

Frederick G. Williams would have a prominent place in the history of the church in the Kirtland period, and you may yet read more about him for he is my great great great grandfather.


Sources: 

Williams, F. G. (2012). The Life of Dr. Frederick G. Williams: Counselor to the Prophet Joseph Smith. Provo, Utah: BYU Studies.

Church Educational System. (1989). Church History in the Fulness of Times, Student Manual. Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Suffer vs Endure

A few years ago, a brother in my ward stood in Sacrament Meeting to share his testimony (sharing is best, that way you don't have to decide whether to "bare" or "bear" your testimony, and you certainly don't want to "bury" it).  Anyway, this gentleman shared an incredible story.

He was up in Idaho at a meeting where World War II veterans were talking about experiences they had during the war.  One vet had been a prisoner of war in a Japanese POW camp, and one morning he decided that he was just too tired to get up and face the day.  The Japanese had not signed the Geneva Convention on the treatment of prisoners of war and, therefore, did not feel bound by its requirements for humane treatment of prisoners, including the providing of sufficient food and decent medical care.

At the same time, the Japanese forced prisoners to do manual labor under brutal task masters and guards.  In Thailand, the Japanese forced prisoners of war and civilians to build a railway through the jungle and over mountains to Burma -- 250 miles from Bangkok to Rangoon.  Of 180,000 civilians pressed into labor on the railroad, around 90,000 died.  Of 60,000 allied prisoners of war, 16,000 perished, including 6,318 British personnel, 2,815 Australians, 2,490 Dutch, about 356 Americans and a smaller number of Canadians and New Zealanders.

Faced with physically demanding work, with little food and almost no medical care, many prisoners reached the point where they simply could not go on.  "It was usually apparent when a man was preparing himself to die," wrote James D. Hornfischer in his book, Ship of Ghosts, about the heavy cruiser USS Houston (CA-30) and her survivors, many of whom worked on the railway in Thailand.  "Often," continued Hornfischer, "he would stop eating.  Sometimes he would announce his despair to the world."

"They'd tell you, 'I'm finished.  I'm gone,'" said John Wisecup, a Houston survivor.  The men who died did so out of despair.  "They died," wrote Hornfischer, "in a dissociating madness, protesting their circumstances then shutting themselves down like zombies."

Returning to the veteran, telling his story at a meeting somewhere in Idaho, he explained that he wished the guards would shoot him and end his misery.  But, suddenly, two "wacko" Mormons came over to him and gave him a blessing.  They blessed him that he would get through the day, and this man soon felt the strength to do just that.  Then the two Mormons went off to give blessings to other prisoners, even going to other buildings in the camp, despite the risk of being caught by the guards.  All of the prisoners who received blessings got through the day, and many survived the war to return home.

The veteran telling the story gave the name of one of the Mormons who had given him a blessing, and the brother from my ward recognized the name.  As it turned out, one of the two who had given blessings to the prisoners was the uncle of this gentleman from my ward.  He went to see his uncle, and there heard the rest of the story.

The uncle had not been particularly serious about his religion, yet he had received the priesthood.  Because he had been less than faithful, he was surprised that morning in the POW camp to be awakened by the Spirit and given the names of men who needed blessings.  He sneaked out of his building to another where he got the second Mormon.  He said they were guided by the Spirit as they moved from building to building.  They were not caught, and, as noted above, every man who received a blessing lived through the day.

Most, perhaps even all, of those who received blessings were not members of the LDS church, and one of the men sent to bless them had been, as we would say today, less active in the church.  We are all, member and non-member alike, children of a loving Heavenly Father who is mindful of each of us and the circumstances in which we find ourselves.  Anyone of us may be sent to bless the lives of others, to be an instrument in the Lord's hands.

One of the things I like about history is that I can find people who have experienced difficulties far in excess of anything I have experienced.  I have a nephew who served his mission in Thailand, and I told him before he left that at those times when he might feel discouraged he should think of those men who built the railway.  There are lessons that we might learn from them.

"Suffer is a dangerous word here just now," said Ray Parkin, another Houston survivor, "it can induce self-pity.  Endure is a better word, it is not so negative.  Enduring can give aim, a sense of mastery over circumstance.  I have seen so much self-conscious suffering and men dying from self-pity."

Jim Gee told his friend, Howard Charles, "Look Charlie, your mind is like the muscle in your arm.  Either you use it or it gets flabby and useless."  Gee then told Charles "There are three forces at work here.  Like the legs of a triangle.  First, food.  Either we have enough or we're dead.  Second, health.  That needs no explanation.  Third, attitude, which is probably the best medicine.  Food, health, attitude.  They're interlocked, each totally dependent on the other.  We have to have all three.  No food, no health.  Bad attitude: the triangle collapses."

Frank Fujita, also a Houston survivor, was at some point sent to Japan where, in the midst of his ordeal, he kept an unshakably positive attitude.  "I find beauty in everything, even in death, you know," said Fujita.  "I always find something that's worthwhile.  And even when were were starved to death -- most of us down to eighty or ninety pounds or walking skeletons - then instead of me sitting around thinking how horrible a shape we were in and 'Oh, woe is me,' I thought this was an absolutely marvelous opportunity to study anatomy."

Ray Parkin added, "There is a lot to grumble about; a lot to be disappointed about; a lot to lose our tempers over; but there is also much to marvel at.  For instance, the loyalty of a man's body -- to watch a sore heal itself -- to feel that pain is not so much a tragedy but a process.  There is fascination in trying to help it consciously, to try to break down any internal resistance to recovery by trying to quell devastating emotions like bad temper, hatred, fear, lust, envy."

As Hornfischer put it, "There was enough of an enemy in nature.  There was no need to allow a psychological fifth column to form up from within."

During the October 2010 General Conference, President Thomas S. Monson spoke on the need to endure:

"We live in a troubled world, a world of many challenges.  We are here in this earth to deal with our individual challenges to the best of our ability, to learn from them, and to overcome them.  Endure to the end we must, for our goal is eternal life in the presence of our Father in Heaven.  He loves us and wants nothing more than for us to succeed in this goal.  He will help us and bless us as we call upon Him in our prayers, as we study His words, and as we obey His commandments.  Therein is found safety; therein is found peace."

Standing Up for Truth with Meekness

In the great climactic battle of the Spanish-American War, the Spanish fleet attempted to break out of Santiago harbor on July 3, 1898. The move was a desperate bid to escape the blockade forces of the U.S. Navy. The U.S. fleet commander, Rear Admiral William T. Sampson, had left Commodore Winfield Scott Schley in command of the blockade while he sailed in his flagship to a meeting with the commanding U.S. general ashore. This was the moment chosen by the Spanish to charge out of the harbor.

The battle at sea ended quickly enough with the total defeat of the Spanish fleet. But for the U.S. Navy, the battle for glory had only just begun. Who was the real hero of Santiago de Cuba? The controversy would be fought out in public, inflamed by the press. In 1901 Edgar S. Maclay would charge Schley with cowardice in the third volume of his History of the United States Navy. Schley asked for a court of inquiry on his conduct of the battle, and the findings of the court would not be kind to the commodore. Schley appealed to President Theodore Roosevelt, who called for an end to the public dispute.

To a young cadet at the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Chester Nimitz, the controversy was nothing less than traumatic. The future commander-in-chief of the Pacific Fleet during the Second World War made a vow that, if he was ever in a position to prevent it, there would be no washing of the Navy's dirty laundry in public. Nimitz may not have been the only future commander to be so effected by the Sampson-Schley controversy.

In June 1944, forces under the command of Nimitz conducted an amphibious operation to capture the island of Saipan in the Pacific's Mariana Islands. In overall command of the operation was the Fifth Fleet's Admiral Raymond Spruance; the fleet was made up of an amphibious force and a force of aircraft carriers, the latter, Task Force 58, was commanded by Vice Admiral Marc Mitscher. In response to the invasion of Saipan, the Japanese Navy sent its carriers out to fight for the first time in more than 18 months.

The operational order given by Nimitz to Spruance was to "capture, occupy and defend Saipan, Tinian, and Guam and develop bases in those islands." The Fifth Fleet commander viewed this as his primary responsibility, and in the face of sighting reports by U.S. submarines, which presented the picture of a divided enemy fleet, he ordered Mitscher to keep his carriers close to Saipan to protect the forces ashore. Mitscher had his own ideas on how to handle the enemy fleet, and developed plans to sail west, close with the enemy and force an engagement on his terms.

Spruance exercised his authority and kept the carriers in a position to defend against a possible end run against the beaches. The Mitscher's carriers were forced to fight a defensive battle against air strikes launched by the enemy carriers. The better trained pilots of Task Force 58 scored a tremendous victory against the inexperienced Japanese fliers. The following day, Mitscher pursued the enemy fleet and launched a strike which caught the Japanese carriers at dusk, and sank one flattop. While the Battle of the Philippine Sea was a victory for the U.S. Navy, it could have been a bigger victory had Mitscher been allowed to sail out to meet the enemy rather than fight a defensive battle.

A few weeks after the battle, Mitscher's chief of Staff, Captain Arleigh Burke wrote up the after action report on the battle. Burke wrote the narrative portion himself, and then took it to his admiral, recommending that he read at least the final two pages since they were critical of Admiral Spruance.

Mitscher was of a mind to trust his chief of staff's version of events -- having fought the battle, he assumed that he knew what was in the report. But, at Burke's insistence, he read the last two pages.

"It's all true, all right," said the admiral when he had finished. Then he stared out over the lagoon at Eniwetok, where his force was resting and regrouping. "Do you know Admiral Spruance very well?" he finally asked.

"Yes, sir."

"What do you think of him?"

"I think he's a might good man, but he made a mistake this time, Admiral. He made a big mistake. I don't know why he did it, but it was a big mistake. This is true."

"Yes, it's all true," said Mitscher, "but what good is it going to do to send in a report like this?"

"It tells the truth."

"You don't think the truth does more harm than good sometimes?"

"No, sir."

"Well, it does," replied Mitscher. "You and I have been in many battles, and we know there are always some mistakes. This time we were right because the enemy did what we expected him to do. Admiral Spruance could have been right. He's one of the finest officers I know of. It was his job to protect the landing force. Anyway, the ultimate outcome of this war is decided by now, and it's not going to make that much difference. Don't you think you ought to take it back and rewrite those last two pages?"

"No, sir," answered Burke, "but I will."

Many U.S. Navy aviators, along with a few historians, would not be as generous as Mitscher, branding the battle as one of the biggest blunders of the war, if not the century. Admiral John H. Towers, an aviator and deputy to Nimitz as Commander-in-Chief Pacific Fleet, demanded that Spruance be relieved of his command for his handling of the battle. Nimitz ignored the demand and defended the Fifth Fleet commander's strategy, then and later. Though Spruance faced criticism, the U.S. Navy was largely spared the kind of public controversy that the Battle of Santiago Bay had produced.

In the recent general conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Elder David A. Bednar spoke on the subject of meekness and recounted the example of Pahoran:

"During a perilous period of war described in the Book of Mormon, an exchange of epistles occurred between Moroni, the captain of the Nephite armies, and Pahoran, the chief judge and governor of the land. Moroni, whose army was suffering because of inadequate support from the government, wrote to Pahoran “by the way of condemnation” and accused him and his fellow leaders of thoughtlessness, slothfulness, neglect, and even being traitors.

"Pahoran easily might have resented Moroni and his inaccurate allegations, but he did not. He responded compassionately and described a rebellion against the government about which Moroni was not aware. And then Pahoran declared:

“'Behold, I say unto you, Moroni, that I do not joy in your great afflictions, yea, it grieves my soul. …

“'… In your epistle you have censured me, but it mattereth not; I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart.'

"What do you think explains Pahoran’s measured reply to Moroni’s accusations?"

What may help us understand why Pahoran reacted as he did?

"Meekness is a defining attribute of the Redeemer and is distinguished by righteous responsiveness, willing submissiveness, and strong self-restraint. . . . The Christlike quality of meekness often is misunderstood in our contemporary world. Meekness is strong, not weak; active, not passive; courageous, not timid; restrained, not excessive; modest, not self-aggrandizing; and gracious, not brash. A meek person is not easily provoked, pretentious, or overbearing and readily acknowledges the accomplishments of others."

Elder Bednar concluded by noting that meekness "is an essential aspect of the divine nature and can be received and developed in our lives because of and through the Savior’s Atonement." Then he promised that the Savior "will guide, protect, and strengthen us as we walk in the meekness of His Spirit."

We live in a world where controversies of the Sampson-Schley type are common, and where the restraint of Nimitz and Mitscher are rare. I wonder, though, if anything is really accomplished by these battles over truth.

As Admiral Mitscher suggested, Admiral Spruance's conduct of the Battle of the Philippine Sea, sound or unsound, made little difference to the outcome of the Pacific War, because that outcome had already been decided. Because enough of the Japanese fleet escaped damage, there would be another major battle to fight, but Japan's fate was already sealed by the battles and campaigns that had already taken place.

Sampson had prepared his fleet well, and under Schley's tactical command it performed well in battle. If Schley made mistakes during the fight, they were of little consequence. The controversy that followed the battle tarnished rather than polished both men, and it gave the Navy a black eye.

Excessive, ungracious, self-aggrandizing controversy does not serve truth, which will prevail with or without our help. Stand up for truth, yes, but do so with meekness.


Sources:

Potter, E. B. (1976). Nimitz. Annapolis, MD: Naval Instititute Press

Potter, E. B. (1990). Admiral Arleigh Burke. Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press

Bednar, D. A. (2018) "Meek and Lowly of Heart". Accessed 4/16/2018 at LDS.org: https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2018/04/meek-and-lowly-of-heart?lang=eng

For the Beauty of the Earth

Winter always seems to be a challenging time; it is small wonder that winter is associated with discontent. Now, with the coming of Spring, as the earth awakes from her slumber, I feel the discontent slipping away.  During this time of year, many feel inspiration as they look upon the beauties of this planet.  They might even feel like singing.

For the beauty of the earth

For the beauty of the skies

For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies,

For the beauty of each hour
Of the day and of the night,

Hill and vale, and tree and flow'r,

Sun and moon, and stars of light,

Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our hymn of grateful praise.

They say a picture is worth a thousands words, and the pics in this post are photos that I took. I hope you enjoyed them.

Hymn: For the Beauty of the Earth