Skip to main content

All (really) is well...

I know that emotional upheavals will come to us in our lives.

One of my ancestors, Alexander Neibaur, left his home in England to come to Nauvoo, Illinois in 1841. There he met Joseph Smith and became close to the prophet before his death. His wife Ellen was pregnant as they were forcibly expelled from their home. Ellen's baby was born in Winter Quarters and did not survive. He writes in his journal that he wants his posterity (which includes many, and of whom I am but one) to remember that day. What he wants us to remember is not written, but I have some ideas:

The bitterness of loss

The pain that life brings

The suffering that those of us who would be God's children must endure

The constant struggle against grief and agony

But above all, I would submit that the thing we must remember is that the last thing released from Pandora's box was hope. We have hope of a glorious resurrection. We have hope of an eternal family. We have hope that the little things we do now will be acceptable to the Eternal Father of our souls. We have hope that the prayers we utter when our hearts are rent with anguish are heard on high by Him who heard such cries from His Only Begotten Son. And we hope that He who hears our prayers will order things for the ultimate benefit of those who ask Him.

Thus, when Grandpa Neibaur carved out the grave for his tiny infant daughter, I don't think he wanted us to dwell on the injustices of the world. I don't think he wanted us to remember the pain. I think he wanted us to remember that we go through pain to learn patience, humility, and faith. I think he wanted us to remember that it is in the fires of affliction that our souls are purified and we become clean and worthy and powerful. And I think that it is the hope we have of an eternal glory and family that we find solace in times of trial. Life is NOT fair. I don't know why. I don't know why people have to suffer, particularly those who have done no wrong. But I know this - all things will work for our ultimate good. Each tear we shed is known of our Father on High, who knows our needs before we ask and delights to bless us if we ask.

Who would have ever thought that the Salt Lake Valley would look like it does today when Grandpa Neibaur arrived in 1848. They sacrificed much so that we could have the convenience and ease that we currently enjoy. Homes, farms, properties, even lives were not held above the great future they were building for us.

Are we going to be expected anything less? Will we rise to the level of perfection, worthy of admiration and veneration, if we are not prepared to suffer as they did?

Because it is in the struggling we do that we find ourselves. God knows who we are. We need to discover that for ourselves. I have hope that we will find ourselves strong, capable, and impressive.


I used to sing "Come, Come Ye Saints" to myself in boot camp when I felt alone. Somehow, I didn't feel so alone anymore.

Why should we think to earn a great reward
If we now shun the fight?
Gird up your loins, fresh courage take
Our God will NEVER us forsake
And soon we'll have this tale to tell
All is well, All is well.

It really is.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Is this thing still on?

 Does anyone even blog anymore? I remember when it first got started and everyone was having a blog. I like writing, and I do a lot of it in my professional life, but not everything makes it onto this blog, which is where a lot of my personal thoughts come out. I put more into Facebook lately, too, because it's a little easier. But there's something to be said for this long-form writing exercise, and I think I will continue here periodically. You don't mind, do you? Well, in my last post I wrote about how difficult things were for me at the time. That changed in July when I finally got a job working for the State of Utah. I was the program manager for the moderate income housing database program, and that meant I worked from home a lot but also went in to Salt Lake when needed, mostly on the train. It was a good experience, for the most part, and I'm grateful for the things I learned even in the short time I was there.  In October I started working for Weber County in t...

The Other Art

I'm not sure we appreciate photography as much as we do other art forms. Part of this comes from the reality that surrounds and permeates a photograph - it's very, very real, and the photographer strives for clarity and crispness in the representations. Perhaps this is why black and white images continue to be relevant - they strip away extraneous information (color) and leave us with something that is at once familiar and also non-existent - for nothing exists in black and white. Nothing. I also think that pictures are becoming too common-place... Everyone has a camera in their pocket, and while that's a very democratic thing (everyone can express themselves in a picture easily and readily, and can find an audience for these images, which are casually taken and casually viewed, and perhaps just as casually forgotten) I think that we embrace that casual attitude, and it spills over to all aspects of the media, making it impotent. So I read this article this morning: h...

A Romantic Encounter

Him (tears in his eyes, heartbroken): I want you to know that I love you, that I'm sorry for my weakness and frailties, and that I will try and do better. I think I am doing better than I was before, and I just want to please you and make you happy. I am very grateful for your continued patience as I try to be the kind of man I want to be. Her: You need a haircut. It's getting a little long.