As a missionary, I encountered interesting individuals. One was a professional athlete who had turned recruiter for the BSA. He had been a football player, as well as an Olympic athlete. He earned a gold medal in track, which he showed to me and my companion. It was fairly easy to believe he was a athlete, even without photos and medals. Even the muscles on his temples were enormous.
He told us he believed our account of Joseph's first vision, or at least that it could have happened, because he awoke one night, surrounded by "glory." He asked us if we were worried about the impending Y2K crisis. We said no, and then he made this profound statement: "I'm not worried, because the Being I worship is not worried."
Elder Maxwell noted that while the Lord expects us to be "anxiously engaged" (D&C 57:28), we are to avoid being "hectically engaged," or "frantically engaged." (Insights From My Life, BYU talk given 12 Jan. 1999). C. S. Lewis said, "[To have Faith in Christ] means, of course, trying to do all that He says. There would be no sense in saying you trusted a person if you would not take his advice. Thus if you have really handed yourself over to Him, it must follow that you are trying to obey Him. But trying in a new way, a less worried way. Not doing these things in order to be saved, but because He has begun to save you already. Not hoping to get to Heaven as a reward for your actions, but inevitably wanting to act in a certain way because a first faint gleam of Heaven is already inside you" (Mere Christianity).
Lehi's dream is so rich and complex, it often yields new insight, always refreshing my determination to do right when I read it. Lehi meets a Man, whom I assume is Christ. The Man bids Lehi to follow Him, and Lehi finds himself "in a dark and dreary waste." "And after I had traveled for the space of many hours in darkness, I began to pray unto the Lord that he would have mercy on me, according to the multitude of his tender mercies" (1Ne. 8:7-8). The trust here is implicit. Lehi follows the Lord into unfamiliar territory, and when he finds himself alone, he begins to pray. He describes the Lord's abundant mercy in a way that evokes a warehouse in my mind, as though Lehi knows that there is an infinite supply, a "multitude" of mercies at God's disposal, and he begs to have a drop to sooth the extremity of his circumstances. He knows the mercies are available; the only questions are "if" and "when" the Lord is willing to extend them.
I remember being totally drained of energy one day while mowing the lawn. I laid down on the grass, thinking that I should get some sugar and cold liquid into my blood. But I felt prompted, strangely, to relax and just lie there. A minute later, my uncle appeared with a tall glass of cold lemon juice. This refreshed me, and I was back to mowing the lawn again. While this circumstance was trivial, the prompting was priceless to me, a "tender mercy," evidence that 1. My needs are known to God, 2. I am important to God, and 3. God makes provisions for my needs. A fourth point, and probably the least appealing, yet also comforting, is the evidence that God approves of my circumstances. Being enervated on the lawn is a legitimate part of God's menu of events for me; He has no problem with me being in what seems an undesirable circumstance.
Father in heaven knows the circumference of my biceps and the meagerness of my bank account, and while I could imagine improvements, the Lord knows and accepts these dimensions of my life. I am in the telestial world to have telestial-quality experiences. The scent of lemons and the odor of diapers are all legitimate shades on the potential palette of what we encounter here.
I have learned from personal experience that the Lord is aware, not only of my present, but knows all the miles that lie ahead on my odometer, so to speak. He knows the future. This can be intimidating, even frustrating and faith-shaking for people I have encountered. "How can such determinism be reconciled with agency?" and the hand wringing and stomach-ulcer forming fretting begins. The combination of my faith in God's benevolence, along with my understanding that He is omniscient and knows my future, is somewhat comforting to me. I imagine counsels between Christ and various angelic messengers who have stewardship over me, conspiring on my behalf to see that all the right things come my way, fall into place, and turn out properly. Provisions for my physical needs, as well as developmental experiences, are constantly being made. Necessary problems and blessings are being planned for me. It is easy to forget in all our anxious engagement and agency exercising and goal setting that God also has agency.
Where, then, is the happy medium? We are not to be "acted upon," yet we also do not have ultimate control of anything but our internal attitudes and feelings. It seems we are to thrash about in the most productive way we can manage, and wait for the Lord to make something constructive out of the debris and waves we generate. We also are privileged to follow the promptings of the Spirit, actually getting directions from time to time that correct our course (see 1Ne. 16:29). I think of this as following the wind where it blows us (John 3:8). So we cooperate with the Lord, sculpting our lives, and being sculpted by the Lord at the same time.
It is easy to imagine how hurt the Lord must feel when we do not trust Him, and also how flattered He must feel when we do trust Him. Being frantic, hurried, worried, fearful, depressed—these things are evidence that we doubt the Lord's providence or ability to control what is going on. When someone trusts me, believes what I say, or even values my opinion, I feel flattered, even humbled. I cannot imagine the Lord feeling any different when I show through my actions and attitudes that I trust Him.
