Touched By An Angel

I believe in angels, those seen and unseen.

Tonight I was touched by an angel. I saw her. I was in a grocery store. Eggs in hand, I just entered the checkout line. As I entered the line, I glanced to my right. Someone I thought I recognized was in my line of sight. So I looked harder, squinting. She was walking toward me and then I recognized her. It was a friend Elisa and I have known for a few years. I hadn’t seen her for at least a year. She kept approaching until there was mutual recognition. We said hi and we hugged.

I asked her about her life. What she was doing? How was she doing? There was concern in her eyes for me. Almost a longing to understand. I sensed in her a desire to know that I was okay. I don’t think she asked me how I was doing. But it was there in her eyes. I sensed that she wanted badly to know that I was doing well. At least that’s what I interpreted from her body language. And I wanted to reassure her that despite my trials I was doing well. So I gave her a brief update, hoping that she would see the hope that was in me. I told her I had moved back to the area to be closer to my girls. And that I was doing fine. Because really, I am.

I remember telling her that I have learned two things recently. The first was that life is hard.

The cashier had overheard our exchange and hastily asked what was the second one.

I said that we have a choice how we respond to the hard things.

We then said goodbye and I walked out of the store feeling about ten pounds lighter. I couldn’t recall if she asked how I was doing. But it was in her eyes. And it was in her smile.

She was cheering me on. I could see it through all her body language. Her hope for me was that I was hanging in there, that I was looking up with hope and faith. Her concern and love was genuine. Everything about her showed me that she was cheering me on. I wasn’t even feeling sad or down, really. Not that I was aware, at least. But the love and concern she showed me lifted a burden I didn’t even realize I was carrying. How is it we can be touched so deeply when someone expresses love and concern for us? I don’t know. Maybe love is the universal language of the spirit. Whatever the case may be, tonight I thank God for sending me an angel.

People Can Change

I am grateful for Rory Feek. Have you heard of him? A year or two ago I was looking to download a good book or two into my Amazon Audible account and came across a title that looked inspiring. It was called This Life I Live. So I bought it. Then as often happens, I let it slip away and forgot about the book until maybe a couple months ago.

Because I am going through a divorce and life is very hard right now I have been a magnet to all things inspirational. I was in my car with a two-hour drive ahead of me and in the mood for some inspiration. So when I came across this book again I decided to give it a try. I am so glad I did.

Rory Feek is apparently a famous singer-songwriter of country music. I say apparently because I had never heard of him before buying his book. In the first chapter, “Famous For Love”, he says,

“I am famous. Not for what most people think I’m famous for though--which is music. Yes, I’ve written some songs which you’ve probably heard on the radio, and my wife and I have had a very successful career in the music business. And we’ve made a half dozen albums, toured the country and halfway around the world and performed on television. We even had our tv show for a couple of years. But that’s not what I’m really famous for. Not anymore, anyway. I am famous for loving my wife.”

So begins the amazing love story of a man whose journey led him through a maze of broken childhood dreams into an adulthood of bad decisions and broken relationships until, with God’s help, he learned how to live a life filled with love to the point that that truly is what he is most famous for--loving his wife.

What a legacy.

What is so resonating about Rory’s life to me is that it embodies so well the concept that people can change.

I used to not really believe that. Or at least, change is what happened to other people. Other people could change, but not me. It’s like the good version of the belief that bad things happen to other people.

I don’t know why we believe these things. That bad things cannot happen to us or that we cannot change. Maybe it’s because it’s too easy to be complacent. But the only thing complacency is good for is keeping us in a rut.

Change is hard. Whether it’s good or bad change. At least for me, it is. I like my comfort zone. But when I look back throughout my life at all the most joyful moments, they were usually times when I was enduring some hardship.

And hardship equals change.

Enduring this divorce is forcing me to change. One of the main challenges is that I am the only adult in my household now. Sure, some things are easier. I have always had a hard time living with other people. Relationships have never come easy for me. At least functional ones. So I’d be lying if I said it was all bad.

But it doesn’t take away the fact that I am all I have to hold me up right now. Of course God is there. But man (and woman) was not meant to be alone. So when the laundry needs washed, folded, and put away, it will continue to need washed folded and put away until I do it.

When the dishes are dirty, same thing. They will stay dirty--actually that’s not entirely true. I have been relying on my oldest daughter, Mia, somewhat here. And she’s been great about not complaining, too.

But the point is life is not easy. This divorce has forced me to adjust. It has forced me to use muscles I haven’t been used to using. It has forced me to change. There’s that word again.

The greatest gift I’ve received from the divorce, though, is the knowledge that I cannot do it on my own. Whereas before I just relied on my wife.

Forced to confront the reality that I had to accomplish stuff--keep the electric on, stay healthy, etc., etc--I soon realized I had to do it all on my own or enlist God’s help.

And since becoming separated it didn’t take me long to realize I was in over my head, it was relatively easy to turn to Him.

And that is what has saved me.

And I don’t mean I’m now ‘saved’ as in the one and done version of being saved.

I mean that I am being saved every day. Taken care of, helped to accomplish things that I wouldn’t be able to do on my own.

Take for example earlier today. So I go to church. Usually one Sunday a month I teach a men’s class. A few days ago I was asked by one of my leaders if I would teach today.

I said, “Sure. What do you want me to teach?”

“You decide,” came the reply.

Now I’m not too keen on teaching. I’m not a very confident teacher. I don’t think I’m very good at it. In fact, I have taught classes in the past that, once finished, I felt like crying because I had done so badly. Many times over the years this has happened.  

Here’s what happened today—though I need to back up a couple days to when I began preparing the lesson.

I was taking a walk out by the lake behind my house when I received the text that told me to choose my own topic.

This is something I wanted to have Heavenly Father’s help with. Truth be told, I want His help with just about everything I do these days. My penchant for messing up things when I try to do stuff on my own is so great, I’m always asking Him for help.

So I sat down in the grass on the dam overlooking the lake and bowed my head and said a prayer—a simple one. Something like, “Heavenly Father please let me know what lesson you want me to teach on Sunday. I want to do what you want, so please direct me.

And so as I searched the different options it came to my mind which lesson He wanted me to share.

As I studied the lesson right then—I had access to it on my phone—and again later on, I took notes and felt only somewhat prepared. Early this morning I actually printed it out and jotted questions I wanted to ask the class and outlined the parts that I wanted to read in class. I was nonetheless feeling less than confident.

A short while later while heading to church I realized that I had forgotten the marked-up lesson at home. Immediately after realizing I’d left it at home and knowing it was too late to turn around, the thought that I would have to trust in God even more came to my mind. This actually made me feel better, I think, then had I not forgotten it.

Church services where I attend consists of three one-hour-long meetings/classes. The class I was to teach occurred during the final hour, so I listened attentively during my first two meetings, hoping to feel inspired by something I heard.

I was. While I cannot remember much of the content of what was spoken during those meetings, I do remember the main feeling. It was the same thought I’d had in the car: trust me.

I knew it was from God and I knew that I would be blessed if I did so.

During the second hour, at least one other thought came to my mind: You are being prepared for when you facilitate the teacher training meeting next month in April. This revelation came shortly after I felt prompted by the Holy Ghost to remain silent during the lesson and to listen and observe.

When my turn came to teach I wasn’t really sure at the beginning what to say or what to read or really how to begin. But I allowed myself a moment of silence as I listened for the whisperings of the spirit to help me know how to lead the class. My only agenda was to let the spirit guide our meeting.

What followed was a spirit-filled lesson. As I trusted in the Lord to lead the lesson, or rather, to lead me as I lead the discussion, I could tell that those who were ready were enlightened and spiritually fed.

This experience has led to an increase in confidence that I can teach by the Spirit. So long as I allow my heart to be open to the whisperings of the Spirit as I prepare and as I teach, then really it is I who learn, along with the rest of the class. For we are being taught by the Holy Ghost. He is the real teacher. He is the one who changes us.

Sometimes Even His Burden Seems Hard

This post I wrote a few days ago and have for some reason felt hesitant to share. Perhaps it's because it seemed to be more directed at me and my selfishness and less toward God and His blessings toward me. After letting it marinate these last few days, however, and rereading it, I've changed my mind. I believe it shines a greater light on Heavenly Father's goodness and grace because it shows a stark contrast between the selfish, worldly me, and the person I am trying to become through him. The following scripture from the Book of Mormon embodies what I strive for, yet fall short of every day.


Mosiah 3:19

"For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father."

I have an aching back. My hands and arms hurt. I've lost my former life. My wife is gone. I have no plan for the future. I have two girls--two beautiful girls who are my life and I am supposed to care for them. Supposed to take care of their needs. I wake up at five in the morning because I don't trust myself. I read the Book of Mormon and am following the life of Christ in the New Testament because I don't trust myself. And then I pray for the same reason. 

I am an overweight 45-year-old man who has changed a few things. Not because I am capable. I am not. I have gained the six pounds back--six pounds that I'd lost in the last three months. I forget to brush Bethie's hair some mornings before school. Okay, I admit, that one sounds minor to me.

I don't know where I'm going in life. I really don't. 

There's a doctor I want to see with limited hours who I believe can help me if I but remember to call on the day that he's in. I've forgotten to call him for the last five or six weeks--until today. Finally, I remembered. But when I called this evening I was told by a machine that the office was closed. I was wrong about the hours.

This is all about me. These are the ways I fail every day. All the time.  These are the reasons I don't trust myself.

I don't have enough time to do all that I need to every day even though I never watch sports anymore, rarely waste time on the internet, and only watch TV when me and the girls cuddle up to a movie on the couch. That, or like tonight begin to watch an uplifting movie only because I have a need to lay on my prickly acupressure mat for a half hour and I might as well be uplifted if I guess at the right movie.

I don't even trust myself to write because I love it so much I fear doing anything that will lead to selfishness. Wow. That sentence right there really makes me sound crazy. The truth is I live in a spiritual bubble, mostly doing only things I find uplifting and wholesome. 

I don't do the radio except on rare occasions because I'm afraid of losing the Spirit. It's true. About the most worldly music I play these days is a scratched up John Denver cd that's in the slot in my car. And thanks to the awful Carbondale roads and my low quality car cd player the cd sounds worse than it actually is.

I'm living my life like it's tethered to the Lord by a single strand of thread in a windstorm that may, at any moment, be torn or let go if I forget and look the other way.

As I write this I think that it must sound like I'm a spiritual freak. Or that that is what I'm trying to be. I honestly don't know and don't think of it that way. 

The truth is--yeah, and I'm tired of analyzing all my feelings and seeking to understand what it all means. But I need to so...

I don't trust myself right now. Not for nothing. I've got a track record for causing myself and others lots of suffering when I do things with my own pleasure in mind. There's lots of selfishness that has been burned out of me and much more still to go. 

My motivation therefore is to trust in the Savior because He has never failed me. Ever. The times in the past when it felt like He failed me were actually times when I acted on the belief that He failed me which served only to cause suffering. Because of me, not Him. I have broken myself against this principle too many times for me to count.

It's called shrinking. I have spent most of my life shrinking, giving up, quitting. Refusing to get back up right away after failing at something. Then, as if that was proof God was not helping me, He got the blame. My weakness coupled with Satan's brilliance = too many regrets. 

So I've just stopped trusting myself. That's the reason I do what I do. That's the reason I read the scriptures, attend church, pray, attend the temple. I'm keeping my spiritual 'i's dotted, 't's crossed.

I think most people would say it another way: that they trust in God.  

I don't know why I feel more honest saying it the other way. Maybe it's because it reminds me that there's a reason I trust Him. I'm too scared not to. 

The burden in trusting Him has been so much lighter. 

But it's still a burden. That lighter burden--His burden--is the reason I am writing tonight.

It is still difficult. For it means that I don't make plans the same way I used to. It means that I allow myself to not know so many things.

Take for example my decision to quit my last job before obtaining another one. Typically not wise to do so, but this decision felt right and in line with what He wanted me to do. But still it was a hard decision, and burdensome.

A lot of anxiety resulted from that decision--especially as the days passed and I was burning through my savings. Lots of fear of not knowing. That was the main thing. When I quit my job I didn't even know if I'd be serving tables or massaging, holding down one full-time gig, or three part-time puzzle pieces. There was so much not knowing going on for so long it was very hard. 

I suppose that's really what is bothering me right now. It's the not-knowing. There's just a whole lot of stuff about everything that happens to be important to me that I just do not know: the future of my young daughters. Elisa's future. My career aspirations. Financial servitude or mastery. And so on.

And of course I'm not exceptional here. Life is this way for all of us. I think I've just been granted a little more recent opportunity through my trial to have my false sense of security thrown to the dogs. And they've sure had at it.

My hands are up, white flag waving. I am crying uncle. 

So now I have been gifted the opportunity to trust in God. 

I am grateful for this blessing. For even though the things I don't know are overwhelming, they remind me of my weakness and the requirement that I have to turn to God. And I know that He hasn't failed me yet. 

So tomorrow I'll take another step. I'll see if He gets me through the day, or just the next moment. 

And while I do believe He will see me through the next thing, big or small, I don't know that He will. That's why it's scary. 

But the alternative is far scarier. I can no longer afford to trust myself. So my goal is to remember my weakness. And to also remember that God has yet to fail me.

The Book Through Which My Blessings Flow

If I was asked what was the one thing I did that had the greatest effect on my life since blessings began to flow unabated, I would say it all began with an earnest commitment to read daily from the pages of the Book of Mormon. 

More than any other change I've made, feasting daily from the Book of Mormon, I am convinced, has caused my eyes to be opened, my heart to be softened, and unceasing blessings of comfort and divine guidance to flow into my life.

Interestingly I don't even remember when I began a sincere study of the Book of Mormon. I can't even remember what month I started reading it. Yet I know that it was not long after that that I began to feel its power weaving itself throughout the fabric of my life.

It is safe to say that I have never before felt anything close to how I feel now. I have never before been blessed to be a witness to so many miracles. My heart has never before felt as it does now. I have tried for many years in vain to soften my heart and to feel a close personal bond with Jesus Christ. 

Until now, there has perhaps never been a time when I did not feel forced to learn life's lessons the hard way. It was not due to a lack of effort. More than once I have concluded that the most appropriate epitaph that could be written on my tombstone if I died at that point would be something like: "Chris died. He tried." 

As pathetic as that sounds, that was still exactly how I felt most of the time. I have always given myself credit for trying. It's just I never could catch a break. At least that's what I believed. If gold stars were given out for most effort expended in one's life, I would win, hands down. I really thought this.

My martyr complex was deep. I'm sure I still don't fully grasp it. Even now there is probably still some hiding deep within me I haven't shined the light on yet.

This is partly why I am so utterly blown away that I am mostly not like this anymore. The "acted upon" Chris has been mostly replaced by the "act on" Chris. 

It bewilders me because it is so unlike me. Sure, I have my moments. But I have been blessed with a much greater ability to get back up after falling down, shake off the dirt, and get back on the saddle of life. 

I realize that it is so unlike me because it is not me doing it. It is my Savior who has engineered this new ability in me. 

I used to internally roll my eyes when I heard religious people speak like this at church. They would engage in hyperbolic sentimentalism, or at least I thought. They would often tear up when speaking of the Savior and His goodness. So I would just ignore their sentiments, acknowledge their niceness, and conclude they were naive and didn't hold a license to live in the real world. The hard world. Where I lived. 

Now I'm one of them. I can hardly hold back the tears when I think of Him. I am at a loss when I ponder the blessings He has given me. And those blessings really are from Him. I want to tell the world--including going back in time and tell my old doubting self--No, see. It is not feigned humility. These are not just flowery words that sound good to make me feel good. These are actual true words that I know are true because I have lived them. 

These words of mine have come through a refining fire that I am still struggling to endure every day. They are words borne from experience of actually trusting in the Lord Himself. I have been blessed with the ability to do what He has asked me to do. And because I have trusted in Him, He has simply kept His promise to bless me. And wow. It actually works. Trusting Him actually brings blessings into overflow mode. The cup runneth over-type.

And so I find myself becoming someone that I used to look down upon. I pity the former me who tried so hard to see, but just wasn't ready.

There is so much I am still not ready for. There are days I still feel depressed. My depression and anxiety may have been healed, but there are still evil (negative) thoughts and beliefs I too easily fall prey to. I hope I am not over-confident. I still doubt. I still battle more fears than I want to admit.

But the blessings are real. They have changed me. He has changed me.

And while I cannot remember precisely when it all began to happen, there is one thing I know:  

I began to see more clearly God's blessings and plan for me when I began to earnestly read the Book of Mormon.

The Book of Mormon is the Word of God

I have read from the pages of the Book of Mormon all my life to one degree or another. From my childhood on, this book has always been available to me. The time and effort I have spent throughout the years reading and studying this book have waxed and waned. But for a long time--with occasional exception--like the rest of my efforts toward self-improvement, my sincere study of the Book of Mormon has been inconsistent and sporadic, sprinkled with short bursts of rewarded effort.

I believe I must have been sufficiently humbled when I began again from the beginning, determined to read all the way through to the end. For ultimately, I read all the way from beginning to end within just a couple months. 

What I have found most striking about the experience of reading the Book of Mormon daily is not some specific experience I had while reading. It is that all aspects of my life were enhanced. 

What I have been given to know as truth is this: 

Reading and pondering the Book of Mormon daily has opened a channel from heaven from which great blessings have flowed.

Just as a rising tide lifts all boats, my daily study of the Book of Mormon has enhanced all aspects of my life. It is like putting on a pair of glasses that brings everything else into clearer focus. 

It has provided me with the necessary spark that I have long needed in order to put my house in order. 

 "...feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do."

                                                                   --2 Nephi 32: 3

Not long before his passing, LDS President Thomas S. Monson recently said this of the Book of Mormon:


"I implore each of us to prayerfully study and ponder the Book of Mormon each day. As we do so, we will be in a position to hear the voice of the Spirit, to resist temptation, to overcome doubt and fear, and to receive heaven’s help in our lives."


I know that these are true words. I know that my life would be far different had I not chosen to incorporate the Book of Mormon and its teachings into my life. Since I began my serious study of this book I have been blessed to be able to hear the voice of the Spirit, to resist temptation, overcome much doubt and fear, and have received heaven's help in my life. 

The blessing this book has been to me is incalculable. This book has changed my life beyond measure and will change the life of every person who sincerely receives it.