Death, Taxes, and Other Sure Things

I recently gave a talk in church. The occasion, in case you hadn't guessed from my recent posts, was Dad's funeral. Here is what I spoke about:

There is an old saying that the only sureties in life are death and taxes. Well, Dad passed away April 15.

Dad had a great sense of humor. But in all seriousness, and in the few minutes I have today, I'd like to talk about some of the most important things he gave me (besides nearsightedness and the bald spot):

1) Time. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught: "In family relationships, love is really spelled T-I-M-E." Dad gave us his time, and he was thoroughly invested in our lives. Whether it was yelling from the sidelines as a coach or just an anxious parent, he was there at our basketball and soccer games and hardly ever missed one. He supported us in our hobbies and interests. We knew he cared, and his love language was the time he gave.

2) Work. Dad taught us to work. The plowboy who grew up on a farm in Smithfield and learned the value of an honest day's labor taught his children that you don't get something for nothing and you have to work for it. We were given an allowance, but we had to do our chores (weeding, mowing the lawn, etc.) to earn it. For years, we had a paper route, waking up at 5:00 or 5:30 a.m. even on school days and holidays, and he worked right alongside us, never taking a cent for himself. Those lessons carried me through part-time jobs in high school and college and into the present.

3) He taught me five simple words that stand out: excuse me, please, and thank you. I vividly remember him teaching me to use these words when I was growing up. Good manners were and are important. Knowing and using these words have helped me open countless doors in my daily interactions with people and my work experience.

Though Dad passed on a Saturday night, as a family we left the hospital when it was already Sunday morning. Easter Sunday! The timing of it all, we think, was not a coincidence. And the most important message in the world is still, as the Prophet Joseph Smith described, that Jesus Christ "died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it."

In a world rife with "fake news," rumors of wars, fads that come and go, the philosophies of men, and other false Christs the prophets saw would be abundant in our day, my knowledge of the Atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ is, in addition to death and taxes, the third sure thing in my life; and not only do I believe it, but I also know it through the Holy Spirit.

In the New Testament, Paul said that "this thing (the gospel) was not done in a corner" (Acts 26:26), and Peter spoke of the world's "cunningly devised fables" (2 Peter 1:16). Elder Jeffrey R. Holland recently spoke on "cunningly devised fables" in his Face 2 Face event:

"This is not a cunningly devised fable. This is God's truth. I want all of you here and afar to know that I know that this is the work and kingdom of God on earth. I am more certain of that than anything I know, anything I have seen, anything I have ever heard, and anything I hope to embrace in the future."

Today, I echo what he taught. When we talk of the concepts of resurrection and eternal families, not only are these good or neat ideas; I testify that they are true! And that knowledge carries me at this time and will carry me in future days.

In an all-wise, all-loving Heavenly Father's magnificent plan, there is so much more in store for us than wearing halos and playing harps in heaven! He has so much more in store for us, and it is beautiful and wonderful to think of. Death is a necessary part of that plan. Though we mourn today, we also rejoice.

Paul said: "For now we see through a glass, darkly" (1 Corinthians 13:12). I know that Dad now sees clearly. I take great hope in the knowledge that he is reunited with his parents, my Uncle Dexter, and other loved ones who have gone on before.

Dad was sick for a long time. Some of his thorns in the flesh he carried for all of his life on Earth. He is now free of them. I don't know why Dad had to suffer through those nor the illness that ultimately claimed his mortal life. (How can any of us know for sure why these things happen while "we see through a glass, darkly"?)

Neverthless, like Nephi, though "I do not know the meaning of all things," "I know that he (God) loveth his children." I know that (1) our Heavenly Father loved Dad and (2) Dad loved his children and his grandchildren.

I testify of the importance of the gift of the Holy Ghost. His presence has been so important to me over the past week. When we got the call that Dad had been taken to the hospital, I felt urgency to get there, and yet I also felt peace. I feel at peace today. The Spirit, also known as the Comforter, has comforted when I have been sad, and He has given me also joy in the knowledge of these things, of which I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The Mish: All of the Time in the World

It's Abraham Lincoln's 208th birthday today. Did ya know?

Honest Abe's birthday has additional significance for me. I remember what I was doing on his 188th birthday, 20 years ago today. It was the end of an era as I returned home to the United States after two years of missionary service in Peru.

My older brother and my new sister-in-law took me out to eat at Boston Market, which is now a Wendy's, in Bountiful. (What did I care what it was? It was American food at long last.) That night, I met with my new stake president up at the stake center and was officially released to return to pursuing new goals in the lone and dreary world that lay ahead.

Five days later, the girl who waited for me, as I like to say, was born (my second cousin Meikayla). A few years later, my last companion, that pesky parasite, was finally cleansed from my system.

My, how the time flies. Yes, this is one of those "Back in My Day" moments.

I think back on the many people I was blessed to associate with, to both laugh and cry with, to serve, and by whom to be served in so very many ways. I also think of those who hit the baptismal waters and then "drowned," so to speak, or who wandered into other paths, or those who for whatever reason, be it time or distance or a number of other factors, fell off the radar. Nevertheless, I hold out hope for one and all.

The other day, this photo came up in my social media feeds, which I have borrowed (yoink!) for this post:

This is the Lazarte family, one of many families I had the opportunity to teach. My companions and I taught their father, José; he was baptized; he was ordained a priest; he baptized his sons Erick and Yamil; and he went on to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, all in the few months we were stationed in that ward only to be interrupted by the aforementioned day of twenty years ago today.

I glance again at this photo, and I see how far they've come. Erick and Yamil went on to serve missions of their own and are raising families of their own now, too. I look at them all and observe also how far they are going. And all of the blood, sweat, and tears spent in the service of such people vanish away. They are nothing. These people, these memories, are everything. It is the gift that keeps on giving, and its dividends know no bounds.

Where am I going with this? Other than feeling old, old?

The simple answer, as I sat in stake conference today, two stake presidencies later (somehow, through a series of fortunate events, I'm back in that very same stake) and pondered on the time gone by, is that time is abundant. Thanks to the gospel plan, we have all of the time in the world.

When it comes to missionary service, I've heard it said that there are those anyone could teach, there are those only a few select individuals could teach, and there are also those only you could teach. When all is said and done, I feel like I've been the one to be taught. I've learned that completely changing your life, turning it nearly upside down in many cases, is worth the sacrifice that brings forth the blessings of heaven.

Understanding the Plan

Two Sundays ago, Elder Marcus B. Nash of the Seventy visited the Island of Misfit Toys and even took an entire hour (a combined Relief Society/elders quorum meeting) to answer our questions about Church policies and gospel topics. It was an enlightening hour in which we were free, as a congregation, to ask him whatever question we wished.

Before taking our inquiries, he instructed us on the purpose of asking questions (I'm largely paraphrasing, as this is now 10 days in the past, but here you go for those who asked me what Elder Nash taught us):

1) There is no such thing as a bad question, though some are better than others.

2) It is exercising faith to ask questions; you learn so much by doing so.

3) Questions should be genuine and sincere and should not be made to show what you know.

4) Ask yourself: Is this the kind of question that lifts us spiritually?

5) You'll know how sincere your question is by your willingness to act on the answer.

Elder Nash ended up taking about four questions only over the course of that hour, but that is not to say that the time was in any way misspent nor were we shortchanged. On the contrary, it was a very good thing, for his answers were detailed, and he bore testimony of the rationale behind each one, sharing scriptures and teachings of prophets and Apostles in doing so.

One of the more poignant questions came from a member of the congregation who inquired: "How do we draw the line between loving others and standing up for what we believe in?"

Elder Nash asked a follow-up question, asking whether this was about the issue of gay marriage in particular, i.e. "condoning things we don't condone."

The short answer: It's all about understanding the plan of salvation.

He opened Moses 1:39 to us and spoke about God's work and His glory, "to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." He taught us that "the plan is the greatest expression of love ever made. The plan is to live God's life." The Savior said, "Here am I; send me." We accepted the Plan, and the evidence of that is that we are here on Earth.

Because of the plan, the Church does not teach "free" agency, but, rather, moral agency. Because of our acceptance of the plan, we agreed that we would be responsible for our choices.

In the October 2015 Ensign, Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles talks in detail about the plan of happiness and why understanding it is so vital to our comprehension of what we are doing here in this mortal realm. Elder Nash recommended that we read it.

One of my favorite lines from it reads: "Those who wonder if their current circumstance or condition cuts them off from eternal life should remember that 'no one is predestined to receive less than all that the Father has for His children.'" That applies to every "circumstance" or "condition."

Also:

"My invitation is that together we stand again in support of the Father's plan. This we do with love for all, for the plan itself is an expression of the love of God."

Again, Elder Nash reiterated that we must understand the plan and the vital importance of recognizing it as being the greatest expression of love ever made.

To achieve exaltation is not only to live with God but to live as God. He is married to a woman, our mother, and He has a large family consisting of many, many children.

In this life, though, the key is the same as it was in the premortal existence: Support the Father's Plan. Do it in love. Don't ever get angry. If someone chooses less than following, we will be kind, love them, and lift them up. Share the doctrine and your knowledge of it.

I'm not doing this enough justice here with my summary. I know that. You very much had to be there to fully feel the Spirit of what he taught us. I recommend Elder Hales's Ensign article, just as Elder Nash recommended it to us, for further reading. It is phenomenal.

So was our hour with Elder Nash.

Ton of Bricks

Life moves pretty fast sometimes—and not always in positive, Ferris Bueller kinds of ways.

Six months ago, I met up at the local Village Inn with one of my troupe's fans. Over breakfast, as he had outlined in his phone call to me the day before, he excitedly elaborated on his plans to propose marriage to his girlfriend. Their first date had been attending one of our shows a few months previously, and he wanted to bring things full circle by moving ahead with his plan at that week's performance. We were more than willing to help him out, and we devised a scheme that everyone in the troupe was in on.

The plan—as much as you can plan something in improv, anyway—went off without a hitch. He asked, and she said yes. The audience stood up and cheered for what seemed like five straight minutes. It was a beautiful moment that I will not soon forget.

I wish that their story ended here.

However, just a few days ago, this young man's life was cut short in an instant. The life that this couple had started to build together had been brought to an abrupt halt almost as quickly as it had begun.

I don't understand it.

I've learned, and I'm learning, that there are many things that occur in this life that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. They are not fair. They are not right. At times, they seem cruel and pitiless. Nevertheless, they occur, and there is nothing any of us can do about them.

I still do not have the appropriate words for when a friend is grieving. I do not think I ever will. I do not pretend to make sense of horrific pieces of news like the one about this friend's unexpected passing. I will not try to do so tonight.

I will say, though, that a crucial part of faith—of my own faith, at least—is trust in our Heavenly Father's plan. Part of that trust includes trust in the fact that these inexplicable things will happen, and we won't know the reasons during the here and the now. Nevertheless, my faith is that they will given someday.

Another crucial part of that trust is that all will be made right in the end, and that He will wipe away all of our tears. Further, He will restore to us beyond our comprehension our losses and heartaches suffered in this mortal coil and will reward us according to the desires of our hearts.

I know it. Even when there's so much I don't know.