The Simplicity of Believing

Dear Reader,

Rabindranath Tagore is often credited with a profound observation:

“It is very simple to be happy, but it is very difficult to be simple.”

These words brought to mind a beautiful song from 1953, I Believe, made famous by Frankie Laine.

The song speaks of finding reasons to believe in the ordinary wonders of life: the cry of a newborn child, the touch of a leaf, and the beauty of the sky.

Consider a young father holding his newborn child. In that quiet moment, the demands of the world seem to disappear. There is no need for wealth, recognition, or achievement. There is simply a child, a loving embrace, and the wonder of a new life.

Could happiness really be that simple?

I have spent much of my life discovering how easily we complicate our existence. We pursue what we believe will make us happy, often overlooking the blessings already surrounding us.

Through my years in recovery, I have learned that peace frequently begins with acceptance. Through my growing faith in Jesus Christ, I am learning that spiritual understanding does not always require complicated explanations. Sometimes it begins with humility, gratitude, and a willingness to recognize God's presence in the ordinary moments of life.

Jesus taught that we must become as little children (Matthew 18:3). I wonder whether part of that invitation is to rediscover the simplicity of trusting, loving, and believing.

Life will never be without difficulties. Yet even amid sorrow and uncertainty, there are moments of grace waiting to be recognized.

A child's first cry. A gentle breeze. The warmth of someone's hand. A quiet prayer.

These are not insignificant moments. They are reminders that happiness and faith need not always be found through searching. Sometimes they are already present, waiting for us to notice.

Perhaps the difficulty is not in finding happiness, but in learning to recognize how simply it comes to us.

As we continue our journey together, may we learn to slow down, look around, and discover the extraordinary blessings hidden within our ordinary lives.

With love, faith, and gratitude,

Steve
Gimage.net

An original reflection inspired by Rabindranath Tagore and I Believe

“Happiness and faith are not found in the complexity of what we seek, but in the simplicity of what we learn to see. In a child's first cry, the gentle touch of a leaf, or the wonder of an open sky, we discover that life's greatest blessings have been quietly surrounding us all along.”

🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️

— 

One Hand, One Heart, One Life at a Time

 Dear Reader,

We often think that changing the world requires great accomplishments, extraordinary sacrifices, or the ability to influence many people. Yet the greatest changes often begin with something much smaller: one person reaching out to another.

The ancient philosopher Epictetus encouraged us to first decide who we wish to become and then live accordingly. President D. Todd Christofferson, "The Character of Christ," April 2026 General Conference, reminds us that developing the character of Christ is not simply about our own spiritual growth, but also about the influence we have on the world around us.

Jesus Christ taught us this principle through His life. He reached out to individuals, lifted the fallen, comforted the sorrowful, and loved those whom others overlooked.

Perhaps our greatest contribution is not measured by how many people we help, but by the love and compassion we bring to each encounter.

We cannot always change another person's circumstances or choices. But we can choose the character we bring into their life.

And sometimes, simply offering a hand to someone who has fallen is enough to make the world a little better.

May we strive today not merely to do good, but to become good.

🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️

"All are Punished"

 

Dear Reader,

Lately, the world feels out of control. I find myself moving between anger, grief, and disbelief, searching for words that can hold what I’m feeling.

Reports of people being shot during immigration enforcement leave me frightened and heartbroken. Against that backdrop, the attention given to a presidential ballroom and a monumental arch in our capital feels painfully disconnected from the suffering around us. I keep wondering: Where is the concern for human life? Where is the accountability? What are we choosing to celebrate, and what are we allowing ourselves to overlook?

These questions bring me back to Shakespeare. Near the end of Romeo and Juliet, Prince Escalus addresses the feuding families:

What stays with me is the Prince’s admission: “And I, for winking at your discords too.” He recognizes his own failure to confront the hatred before him. He has suffered, too, and he understands that his authority did not absolve him of responsibility.

“All are punished.”

Those words feel painfully close today. Cruelty reaches beyond its immediate victims. Fear enters homes, grief changes families, and public trust wears away. We all lose something when human suffering becomes routine.

I don’t have a tidy answer. I’m writing because I don’t want to grow numb. I don’t want to become so accustomed to disturbing headlines that I forget the people living inside them.

I want leaders who understand that every life matters. I want accountability when power causes harm. And I want us to keep asking difficult questions, even when looking away would be easier.

Perhaps that is why Shakespeare’s words still speak so powerfully to me. They ask us to reckon with hatred—and with the consequences of allowing it to continue.

With grief, concern, and hope for something better,

A fellow Traveler

Justice Must Be Blind to Political Affiliation

 

Good Morning, Friends,

This morning I read an Associated Press report concerning a Justice Department search of the Washington residence of Representative Ilhan Omar.

What troubles me is not simply the search itself, but the questions it raises about the timing, purpose, and impartiality of our justice system.

We witnessed similar public controversy when federal agents searched former President Donald Trump's Mar-a-Lago residence in Florida in 2022. Now, with another election approaching, we are witnessing questions about the use of federal investigative authority involving a member of Congress.

I am not suggesting that either individual is above the law. Quite the opposite. I believe the law must apply equally to everyone, regardless of political affiliation, position, or personal beliefs.

Our Fourth Amendment protects us against unreasonable searches and seizures. It does not prohibit lawful searches, but it requires that government authority be exercised within constitutional limits.

And what of the press? The First Amendment gives journalists the freedom to investigate, question, and report. With that freedom comes a responsibility to distinguish established facts from allegations, political accusations, and speculation.

I find myself increasingly concerned that public confidence in our institutions is being weakened by political division.

Justice should never become an instrument of political retaliation, nor should legitimate investigations be dismissed simply because they involve someone we support.

The true test of our commitment to justice is not how we defend the rights of those we agree with, but how faithfully we defend the rights of those we oppose.

If justice is to remain worthy of our trust, it must be impartial in its application and accountable in its exercise.

I would be interested in your thoughts.

How do we protect the legitimate authority of law enforcement while ensuring that constitutional rights, due process, and freedom of the press remain equally protected for everyone?

🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️

Two Photographs, One Life: The Desire to Become

 Two Photographs, One Life: The Desire to Become 

Dear Reader,

This evening I had a moment of reflection.

I came across an old photograph of myself at age 18. I placed it beside a photograph taken recently, at age 83. Sixty-five years separated the two images.

Using ChatGPT, I asked artificial intelligence to identify the facial characteristics that might still be recognizable after all those years.

The observations were interesting. My smile remained remarkably similar. The shape of my nose, my cheeks, and even the way I combed my hair seemed to provide a connection between the two photographs.

But as I continued looking, I realized that what interested me most was not how much my appearance had changed.

It was how much of that young man still lived within me.

I began asking myself three questions.

First: Do I still recognize the young man of 18 in the face I see today?

My answer is yes.

The smile remains familiar, and I believe it still reflects my outlook on life. There is even something of that same devilish look in my eyes, suggesting that my joy in living and willingness to meet life's challenges are still very much alive.

The principal difference is that I would like to believe I now possess a little more common sense than I had at 18!

Yet today's smile carries something the younger man could not have understood. It reflects the experiences of a life lived through joys, disappointments, losses, discoveries, and spiritual awakenings.

The playful young man has never entirely disappeared. He has simply acquired another 65 years of experience.

And although it might be pleasant to see today's face with the tighter skin of youth, I would not trade those years for the spiritual depth I now possess.

Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 4:16 come to mind:

“Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.” 

Second: Do I still have the hopes and dreams I had at 18?

At 18, I possessed ambition, imagination, confidence in hard work, and faith in a loving God.

I was attending college, preparing for a career, and believing that almost anything was possible if I worked hard enough.

What I did not possess was the experience to understand how unexpectedly life could change.

I could not have imagined that a change in direction during my college years would eventually lead me along paths I had never considered.

Nor could I have anticipated the people who would enter my life, the relationships that would shape me, the mistakes I would make, or the experiences that would challenge and deepen my faith.

Looking back, however, I recognize that the young man already possessed some of the qualities that would help him find his way. 

He had the strength and desire to become. He simply did not know what he would become.

The young man's photograph represents possibility without experience. The older man's photograph represents experience without the illusion of certainty.

What they share is the desire to continue becoming.

I am reminded of Proverbs 16:9:

“A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps.”

I do not believe this means every difficulty or disappointment was placed in my path by God. But I have come to believe that God can help us find meaning, purpose, and spiritual growth even when life unfolds differently from our plans.

At 83, my dreams may have changed, but my desire to grow has not.

Third: If I could speak to that 18-year-old young man, would I tell him what lay ahead, or allow him to discover life for himself?

This question gives me the greatest pause.

Would I warn him about the mistakes he would make? Would I tell him of the disappointments, losses, and painful lessons awaiting him?

Would I try to spare him those experiences?

I think not.

For in doing so, I might also deny him the discoveries, relationships, compassion, and spiritual understanding that have become so important to the person I am today.

Instead, I would offer him one simple message:

You are a child of a loving God. Stay close to the teachings of Jesus Christ and seek the guidance of the Holy Ghost. You will discover a life filled with adventure, pain, unexpected blessings, and the unmatched joy of being alive in this human experience.

And I would remind him that becoming is not something completed at a certain age.

It is a journey that continues for as long as we are willing to learn, to love, to serve, and to grow.

🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️