Thursday, July 31, 2025

Today: The Promise of Our Tomorrows

 


Dear friends,

We often think of tomorrow as something we’re waiting for—a solution, a dream fulfilled, or a better version of ourselves. But in truth, tomorrow is shaped by what we do today. Today is not just a stepping stone—it is the promise of what tomorrow can become.

The Apostle Paul wrote:

“Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
(2 Corinthians 6:2)

In other words, the eternal work of God in us does not wait. It begins now.

Each day we live—especially in recovery and discipleship—offers us choices. Each moment of honesty, humility, prayer, or service plants seeds. And the fruit of those seeds may not bloom until later—but bloom they will, if we are faithful today.


A Lesson from Recovery

I remember an experience early in my recovery: going with my sponsor and others to a dark motel room to meet a man who was fully intoxicated. We were there to help him find hope. That single moment changed how I viewed my past and awakened me to the destructive path I had been walking just days before. It was a lesson I will never forget.

As Bill W. wrote:

“We are not cured of alcoholism. What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.”
(Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 85)

That day—and the man we tried to help—taught me the value of being spiritually fit. It started with one choice made on one day.


One Decision That Changed a Lifetime

Another lesson came through a very different kind of choice: accepting a position with my company in Northern California. It seemed like just a career move, but that decision led me to meet someone who would become my life partner. That one decision opened the door to 33 years of friendship and love—something I would have missed if I had chosen differently that day.


Small Moments Matter Too

Not all life-changing moments feel profound at the time. Just this week, I was assigned to do lock-up duty at my local church. I didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary. But as I arrived earlier than usual, I noticed a car in the parking lot. I approached and asked if I could help. The people inside were looking for a “Why I Believe” meeting but were at the wrong church. I happened to remember—because I had listened in church earlier—where the correct location was and was able to help them.

I hadn’t planned to be there that early. But I was. And they needed help. A small moment—but meaningful.


Wisdom Through the Ages

We often hear about Robert Frost’s “road less traveled.” But the deeper truth is this: every day offers us choices, and those choices direct our future. As the Book of Mormon teaches:

“This life is the time for men to prepare to meet God.”
(Alma 34:32)

And the Lord reminds us in modern revelation:

“...Out of small things proceedeth that which is great.”
(Doctrine and Covenants 64:33)


Wise thinkers throughout history echo this same truth:

“Nothing is worth more than this day.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life.” — Seneca
“Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.” — William James
“You are what you do, not what you say you’ll do.” — Carl Jung

These are not just poetic sentiments—they are reminders of the power we hold in the present moment.


A Testimony of Now

I testify that God is a God of now. He meets us in this moment. When we offer our hearts to Him today, He transforms them into something eternal.

So today—choose light. Choose prayer. Choose service. Choose truth. These are not just acts of obedience. They are promises. And they will echo into your tomorrows in ways you cannot yet see.

In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

The Habit of Happiness




A Simple Thought for Today
Inspired by Marianne Williamson

“Happiness is the choice I make today. It does not rest on my circumstances, but on my frame of mind. I surrender to God any emotional habits that lead me down the path of unhappiness, and pray for guidance in shifting my thoughts. In cultivating the habits of happiness, I attract the people and situations that match its frequency. I smile more often, give praise more often, give thanks more often, and am glad more often. For such is my choice today.”
—Marianne Williamson

When we stop chasing happiness and begin living by spiritual principles, we find something surprising: happiness is not a reward for the lucky or the strong. It is a daily decision, a spiritual practice—a habit of the heart.

There’s great power in recognizing that we are not helpless victims of emotion. With God’s help, we can surrender old patterns—fear, resentment, self-pity—and choose instead to cultivate gratitude, hope, and joy.

In recovery, we discover that serenity doesn't come from controlling the world around us. It comes from aligning our thoughts with truth. That alignment begins with willingness: the willingness to smile more, give thanks more, praise more, and notice what’s already good.

Like attracts like. When we begin to think and act from a place of joy, we start to draw peace, kindness, and connection into our lives. This isn’t magic—it’s spiritual alignment. The fruit of surrender and consistent practice.

So today, let’s ask God for help in shifting our mindset. Let’s live as if joy is not something to earn, but something to choose. Because we are loved. We are not alone. And we are free to walk in joy.

Monday, July 28, 2025

"How Can I Be Drowning If I’m Still in the Boat?"

 

Dear friends,

This past week—and even today—I’ve felt like I was drowning. I’ve been sick, overwhelmed with tasks, and watching the clock run faster than I can move. When that happens, I start to panic. My thoughts tangle, my body reacts, and I either shut down or fall physically ill.

But I forget.

I forget the message of Christ, told not just once but three times in the Gospels. In one account, a great storm threatens to sink the disciples’ boat while Jesus sleeps. In fear, they wake Him—and He arises, rebukes the wind, and says: "Peace, be still." And there was a great calm (Mark 4:39).

How quickly I forget that kind of peace is still possible today.

John’s Gospel gives us a different image. The disciples were again in a storm, rowing hard against the wind, when they saw Jesus walking on the water. He came to them and said, “It is I; be not afraid” (John 6:20). And the moment He entered the boat, the sea was calm.

So I have to ask myself:
Am I really drowning?
Or am I still in the boat—panicked, afraid, and simply unwilling to receive the peace that’s already present?

Maybe I’m not drowning at all. Maybe I’ve just forgotten who’s in the boat with me.

Even after years of sobriety, even with a solid foundation of faith, I still fall into the old trap of self and fear. But as the AA Big Book reminds us:

“We are not cured of alcoholism. What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.” (p. 85)

It is not a one-time fix—it’s a daily choice to trust the process, to invite God in. Faith isn’t just a feeling; as Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf said,

“It is a choice to trust God even when the road ahead seems uncertain.”

And that choice begins when I stop trying to control the storm and start listening to the One who says,

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

In my best moments, I remember that truth. In my worst, I can only whisper it and hope it carries me through. But the truth remains:
The storm may rage around us—but if Christ is in the boat, we will not drown.

Sunday, July 27, 2025

Becoming Spiritually Fit: Growth Through Grace and Service

 

 

Dear friends,

How many of us have watched a great sporting event or a stunning performance in dance or gymnastics and thought: Wow—that takes real strength, discipline, and effort? I know I have. There’s a kind of reverence we feel when witnessing someone’s years of training come alive in a single moment of grace.

Interestingly, I’ve felt that same reverence when watching certain people simply walk through life—with calm, dignity, and deep compassion. There’s something about them that feels anchored, humble, and radiant. I’ve often asked myself, What do they have that I feel I’m missing?

That question has led me down the path of exploring spiritual fitness—not just belief in God, but a daily practice of growing into who God created me to be.


What Is Spiritual Fitness?

A definition I appreciate comes from a wellness project called Spiritually Fit Co-Op:

“Spiritual fitness is about developing your coping and resilience skills through understanding your own beliefs and how you interact with the world.”

“Whatever your spiritual orientation—or your opinions on religion and spirituality—you have a set of beliefs through which you live.”

In other words, we all have a spiritual framework. The question is: Are we nourishing it? Are we putting it into practice?


Growing in the Image of Our Creator

Bill Wilson expressed it powerfully in Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (p. 63):

“Any person capable of enough willingness and honesty to try repeatedly Step Six on all his faults—without any reservations whatever—has indeed come a long way spiritually and is therefore entitled to be called a man who is sincerely trying to grow in the image and likeness of his own Creator.”

To be spiritually fit is to be engaged in this sincere effort—trying, growing, stumbling, returning, and serving.

Morihei Ueshiba put it bluntly:

“Life is growth. If we stop growing, technically and spiritually, we are as good as dead.”


Service Is the Gym of the Soul

Spiritual growth, like physical growth, comes through regular, deliberate effort. As Mosiah 5:13 asks:

“For how knoweth a man the master whom he has not served?”

We don’t become spiritually fit by merely reading about Christ—we become spiritually alive by walking with Him, especially in how we treat others.

Just like muscles grow through resistance and repetition, our spirits grow strong through acts of love, patience, and sacrifice. Gandhi said:

“To find yourself, lose yourself in the service of others.”

The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous echoes this truth:

“Helping others is the foundation stone of your recovery.” (p. 97)


Ordinary Acts, Extraordinary Growth

Some of the greatest spiritual progress I’ve experienced has come while doing simple things—answering the phone when a newcomer calls, sponsoring someone through their steps, or helping serve food to those in need. These aren’t grand gestures, but consistent ones. They shape the heart.

“Do not wait for extraordinary circumstances to do good; try to use ordinary situations.” – Jean Paul Richter

“He that is greatest among you shall be your servant.” – Matthew 23:11

We don’t need a platform or a pulpit—just open eyes and willing hands.


Loving Others Draws Us Closer to Christ

When we love others, we don’t just reflect Christ—we meet Him there.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” – Matthew 25:40

“Charity is the pure love of Christ… and it endureth forever.” – Moroni 7:47

Service is not just the result of spiritual fitness—it’s the method. It softens the heart, clears the mind, and deepens our trust in God.


The Daily Discipline That Matters Most

We live in a culture that celebrates physical fitness—and rightly so. But the Apostle Paul reminds us:

“Take time and trouble to keep yourself spiritually fit. Bodily fitness has a certain value, but spiritual fitness is essential, both for this present life and for the life to come.” – 1 Timothy 4:8 (Phillips translation)

President Henry Eyring once taught:

“Now is the time to prepare to meet God. Just as an athlete prepares daily for game day, when we work on our spirituality daily and give our all to the Lord, we strengthen our testimonies of Him and of His gospel.”


Closing Thought

Spiritual fitness is not about perfection. It’s about showing up, stretching the soul, and allowing love to guide your actions. Every kind word, every act of listening, every humble service is a repetition in God’s gym.

Walk with Him today. That’s how we grow strong.

Grace and peace to you always,
Amen


Thursday, July 24, 2025

Charity: The True Love of Christ

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I have been asked to speak on the topic of charity. I imagine many of you already have meaningful thoughts and personal experiences with this Christlike attribute. My hope is to contribute to your understanding by sharing a few experiences and scriptural insights that I draw upon regularly.

Some time ago, I was asked, “Why do you volunteer so much?”
My answer, almost instinctively, was, “Because that’s who I am.”

I don’t share this to boast, but to illustrate a point: to me, charity is the true love of Jesus Christ—a love that shapes my identity and guides my actions.

If I am to love my family, my neighbor, the downtrodden, or even someone who has caused harm, then I must be willing to step down from the mountain of comfort and walk through the valleys where the poor, the sick, and the struggling children of God live. That’s where true charity walks.

The word charity comes from the Old French charité, rooted in the Latin caritas, meaning “dearness,” “costliness,” or “affection.” The original Greek term used in the New Testament is agapē—a divine, selfless, sacrificial love.

Paul describes this beautifully in 1 Corinthians 13:4–8:

"Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never faileth..."

Let me focus now on that phrase: "a divine, selfless, sacrificial love." For me, this begins in the home.

It shows up in how I care for, support, and protect those closest to me—my family. In my home, I have the responsibility to listen, advise, and listen again. Sometimes it means doing something small, like washing the dishes or sweeping the floor. These small, simple acts are not insignificant—they’re acts of charity. You likely have your own list of daily moments where love is shown in quiet ways.

In the community, charity means being present—available—when someone reaches out. It might be helping someone with their yard or supporting a local effort to provide food or shelter. In Contra Costa County, here in Concord, or in our stakes, there are many chances to serve. The important thing is to act—to show up.

This brings me to a second question: Where does charity end? When is enough, enough?

The Book of Mormon gives us a clear answer. Mormon teaches:

“Charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.”Moroni 7:47

This tells us that charity is not just Christ’s love for us—it’s the love we are invited to develop, receive, and extend to others. It is both an inward transformation and an outward expression of discipleship.

As followers of Jesus Christ, we are invited to:

  • Pray for this gift,

  • Practice it through our actions, and

  • Live it in our daily relationships.

Charity is more than a virtue;
it is a requirement for exaltation—
in this life, and in the life to come.

Now, I don’t know what the next life or the next kingdom holds for me. But I hope that the acts of love and patience I offer now—through service or in my family—will help me hold on to the charity I’m learning to live today. Until then, I’ll try to keep a smile on my face and a prayer in my heart for everyone I meet.

By doing so, I believe I am sharing—however small—a portion of the grace of Jesus Christ, who said:

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”Matthew 25:40

Christ’s charity lives in us
when we care for the poor,
the hungry,
the sick,
the lonely,
and the forgotten.

I invite each of us to seek charity not only through service, but through repentance and humble prayer. As Moroni counsels:

“Pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love…”Moroni 7:48

I testify that charity—true, Christlike love—
is the highest expression of discipleship.
It is the essence of the gospel.
It heals the world,
and it transforms the heart.

I share these thoughts and testimony in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Peacemakers Wanted, Peacemakers Needed: Starting at Home

 

 

Dear Reader,

I find myself returning again to the subject of being a peacemaker. A quick look through my notes tells me this is the third or fourth time I’ve wrestled with it—and perhaps that’s the point. It’s not a lesson you learn once; it’s one you return to, over and over again.

Let me begin with a confession: I’m hardly the poster child for peacemaking. If you asked my housemate, you’d hear the honest truth. Despite my spiritual intentions, I still fall into patterns of frustration and sharp words, and I’m learning—through therapy, prayer, and practice—that peace isn’t passive. It’s built.

President Russell M. Nelson put it clearly in April 2023:

“Civility and decency seem to have disappeared during this era of polarization and passionate disagreements.”

I feel that not just in the headlines—but in my own living room. Sometimes, after a heated exchange, I find myself circling back, humbling myself again, apologizing again. This is not weakness—it’s the painful, real-time process of unlearning old behaviors and seeking something higher.

So, what does it mean to be a peacemaker?


Traits of Real Peacemakers

  • They speak uncomfortable truths.

  • They listen deeply to all sides.

  • They work behind the scenes, not for applause but for healing.

  • They aim not to win, but to reconcile.

History has shown us such people:

  • Nelson Mandela forgave former oppressors and unified South Africa after apartheid.

  • Mahatma Gandhi used nonviolence to resist colonial oppression and sectarian hatred.

  • Anwar Sadat and Menachem Begin—once enemies—signed peace between Egypt and Israel.

  • The Dalai Lama has spent a lifetime advocating for nonviolence through compassion.

  • Pope Francis urges kindness across faiths, reminding us that war is always a failure.

  • Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Liberia’s first female president, rebuilt her nation through reconciliation.

  • António Guterres, at the UN, remains a calm and consistent voice for diplomacy in a chaotic world.

These peacemakers work on the global stage. But what about the living room stage? What about me?


Peace at Home is the Real Test

These global figures inspire me, but the real proving ground for peace isn’t in front of a microphone—it’s in the silence after an argument. It’s in my choice to cool down rather than heat up. It’s in the way I treat someone who disagrees with me—not just publicly, but privately.

Anger never persuades.
Hostility builds no one.
Contention never leads to inspired solutions.

These truths echo in both scripture and psychology. But even knowing them, I sometimes respond with silence—not the good, contemplative kind, but the kind that suppresses emotion until it erupts. For me, silence isn't peace. It's a pressure cooker sealed tight. Eventually, it blows.

I’m learning that peacemaking isn’t about pretending things are okay—it’s about addressing them with patience, humility, and a listening heart.


The Savior’s Model of Peace

Jesus didn’t just preach peace—He lived it in the face of hatred. He said:

“Blessed are the peacemakers.”
“Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”
“Love your enemies, bless them that curse you...”

This is not weakness. It is the most courageous way to live. And it’s the clearest sign of someone who walks in His steps.

As a follower of Christ—and as someone in recovery—I’m reminded that the real spiritual work isn’t in lofty thoughts, but in hard conversations, in moments of pause, and in the courage to say, “Help me, God,” before I say something I’ll regret.


Tools from AA and the Spirit

So I reach for what I’ve been given:

  • Easy does it.

  • Keep it simple.

  • Pause before reacting.

  • Pray for the right words.

  • Stay in the present moment, not the past wound.

These are more than slogans. They are scaffolding for a better life.

And when I fail—and I will—I can rise again. With a softer heart. A slower tongue. A clearer prayer.

God help me until then.

Amen.

"The Fire That Refines" Living in the Tension

                                             

Dear Reader,

This past week, I’ve been confined to my room under quarantine with Covid-19. Add to that the stress of a house struggling with a mouse infestation, and I’ve found myself teetering on the edge of sanity. Childhood fears and poor health merged to ignite a deep internal fire — the kind that whispers, “It’s time to check out. Abandon all. No longer exist.”

I must admit: hope and faith were severely tested.

Then I came across a quote that offered a moment of clarity:

“Remain awake. Do not cling. Allow tension to teach you and truth to reveal itself.”
— from TinyBuddha writings

It reminded me that recovery is not about escaping discomfort. It is about enduring within it—about learning to live inside the paradox that it is through fire that steel is made.


Inviting the Paradox

“The Bodhisattva has no attachment to life or death, and yet vows to save all beings.”
— Zen Paradox

This paradox mirrors a deeper truth: we are meant to live in the space between opposites—between detachment and devotion, between surrender and action. Bill Wilson understood this when he wrote:

“We are sure God wants us to be happy, joyous, and free. We cannot subscribe to the belief that this life is a vale of tears.”
Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 133

Recovery, at its heart, teaches us to be fully present without needing to control. We don’t escape life—we engage it honestly, even when it hurts.


Philosophy Meets Practice

So here I am, quarantined and unwell, yet choosing not to flee from my thoughts. Instead, I expand my perspective with the guidance of others:

“It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti

Step work teaches me to face truth and grow in spiritual understanding.

“The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.”
— Joseph Campbell

I am supported by teachers from my past and those I choose to listen to today.

“Pain is the touchstone of all spiritual progress.”
— Bill Wilson

“Opposition, difficulty, heartbreak, and sorrow are not only unavoidable—they are essential to the whole plan.”
— Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

“Men are, that they might have joy.”
2 Nephi 2:25
And joy, I’ve learned, doesn’t come by avoiding struggle—but by walking through it with God.


Letting the Tension Sing

There’s a quiet miracle in learning to let tension sing through us instead of shutting it down.

“What is to give light must endure burning.”
— Viktor Frankl

In recovery, we are not called to resolve every contradiction. Instead, we are called to become vessels of love, presence, and renewal—even in the fire.


My message is about wholeness, presence, and surrender.

“Ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ... with a perfect brightness of hope...”
2 Nephi 31:20

So I will stay in the fire.
I will do the next right thing.
And I will trust the process.

Amen.

Wednesday, July 23, 2025

What Every Superman Movie Gets Wrong About The Character


Good evening all... I wanted to share a review of Superman by a good friend.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.  Its about character and love of mankind. 

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

“To Forgive Is to Be Free”, A Recovery Message Rooted in Language, Scripture, and Steps 8–12 of AA

Dear Reader,

Yesterday, I found myself in a painful conflict with someone I love deeply. We were both frustrated—he with my position of authority, and I with the responsibility I carry. I own the house he lives in, and in the moment, I asserted that power. He didn’t back down. In fact, he calmly and firmly pointed out how off-base and emotionally reactive I was—immature, even.

His words stung—but they also stopped me.

Right there, I had a choice: I could dig deeper into my anger, or I could take a quiet inventory of my motives, my care for him, and the real cost of pride. I realized I cared more about him than about being right. I saw that we were both wounded, both defensive, both trying.

And I let go.

Forgiveness came—not just of him, but of myself. I dropped the need to win and reached for the relationship. What came next was mutual respect, real conversation, and a compromise that honored us both. That’s when I saw it: this is the power of forgiveness. Not lofty or sentimental—but gritty, immediate, and transformational.

The Word Itself: A Deeper Giving

The English word forgive comes from the Old English forgiefan, which means to give completely—to let go, to release, to no longer demand payment.

At its root is the ancient Proto-Indo-European verb gheb(h)-, meaning “to give or to receive.” So forgiveness, even in language history, has always meant the giving up of a debt or harm. It's not about forgetting what happened—it's about choosing not to hold it hostage anymore.


Forgiveness in Scripture: To Release, To Lift, To Grace

In the Greek New Testament, the word for forgive is often:

  • ἀφίημι (aphiēmi) – “to send away,” “release,” or “let go.”

    In Matthew 6:12, Jesus teaches us to pray, “Forgive us our debts,” showing forgiveness as the act of canceling a spiritual debt.

Another word, χαρίζομαι (charizomai), means “to give grace freely.”

In Ephesians 4:32, we are taught to forgive “even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” This points to a forgiveness rooted not in obligation, but in love.

In the Hebrew Bible, the meaning deepens further:

  • סָלַח (sālach) – “to pardon, to cleanse,” used almost exclusively for God’s acts of forgiveness.

  • נָשָׂא (nāsā’) – “to lift up or carry away,” as in Isaiah 53, where the suffering servant “bears our iniquities.”

Forgiveness in Hebrew tradition is not just emotional relief; it is a holy act that removes guilt and restores peace.


Recovery Application: Forgiveness in Steps 8–12

Step 8: Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all.

Forgiveness begins here—not just seeking it, but preparing to give it. Step 8 calls us to name our wrongs and hold them up to the light, not to shame ourselves, but to free ourselves and others. As we become willing, the spiritual door opens.

“Aphiemi”—we begin to “let go” emotionally, even before we make contact.


Step 9: Made direct amends wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

This is where forgiveness becomes action. We ask for release from others, and often, in doing so, we forgive them as well—for their part in our pain, or for the times they were silent or misunderstood us.

“Charizomai”—we give grace, just as grace has been given to us.


Step 10: Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

Forgiveness becomes daily. We become less afraid of being wrong. In the example I shared, this was key. I had to admit my own immaturity in that moment—not later, not next week, but now.

“Sālach”—we ask God for cleansing, and we offer ourselves and others space to try again.


Step 11: Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God...

Here we meet the source of real forgiveness. God, who “lifts our burdens” (nāsā’) and washes us clean (sālach), becomes the wellspring of our ability to forgive and be forgiven. The anger begins to leave. We start to want healing more than justice.

In this contact with God, we see the other person as He sees them—and ourselves with grace.


Step 12: Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps...

Forgiveness becomes a way of life. We are no longer trapped in cycles of blame. We carry the message not just by speaking—but by how we show up in moments of tension, how we let go, how we give grace.

It is no longer something we do. It is someone we are becoming.


Closing Reflection: The Liberating Power of Letting Go

“To forgive is to release the grip of the past.
In Greek, it is aphiēmi—to send away the debt.
In Hebrew, it is sālach—a sacred act of cleansing.
In recovery, it is a spiritual awakening in real time.”

Forgiveness is not weakness. It is the greatest strength we’re given—the power to disarm anger, to lift burdens, to change the course of a relationship in a single moment of grace.

We forgive because we are forgiven.
We release because we were once released.
We carry the message because someone once carried it to us.

Let’s do the same—today.

Friday, July 18, 2025

From the Mountain to the Valley: Hearing Him in Glory and in Struggle

Dear Reader,

Mark Chapter 9 is one of those sacred moments in scripture that reveals two seemingly different, yet deeply connected, truths about Jesus Christ—and about us.

The chapter opens with a scene of stunning spiritual majesty:

“And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them.”
—Mark 9:3

Here we witness the Transfiguration—Jesus revealed in divine glory, joined by Moses and Elijah, and surrounded by heavenly light. The disciples are awestruck, and then they hear a voice from heaven say:

“This is my beloved Son: hear him.” (v. 7)

It’s a mountaintop moment, quite literally. Christ stands radiant, affirmed by God the Father, wrapped in holiness.

But the chapter doesn’t end there.

Immediately after this divine encounter, Jesus and the disciples descend the mountain—and they return not to peace and praise, but to conflict, suffering, and despair. A distraught father pleads for his son, who is tormented by a violent spirit. The disciples are unable to help. The scene is chaotic and heartbreaking.

“Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)

Here, another kind of revelation unfolds—not in light and glory, but in tears and desperation. A father’s fragile faith meets the Savior’s deep compassion. Jesus lifts the boy, rebukes the spirit, and restores peace. When asked why they couldn’t heal him, He gently teaches, “This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting.”


The Sacred Sequence: Glory Then Grace

Why do these two stories appear together? Why go from heavenly heights to earthly hardship in a single chapter?

🌟 1. From the Mountain of Glory to the Valley of Need

The contrast is no accident. The Transfiguration reminds us who Jesus truly is—the Beloved Son of God. The healing of the boy shows us why He came—to enter our suffering, to meet us in our unbelief, and to bring healing where we are most broken.

Christ's glory was not a retreat from the world’s pain but a preparation to serve it.

This sacred order reveals something of our own path as disciples. We may have moments of clarity, beauty, and spiritual light. But we are not called to build tents and stay on the mountain. Like Jesus, we are asked to descend into the valley—where others are crying out for help.

👂 2. “Hear Him”—On the Mountain and in the Valley

When the voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son: hear him,” we often think of it as a call to obedience. But in Mark 9, we see that hearing Jesus also means trusting Him when we’re unsure, when belief trembles under the weight of real-world pain.

The father’s prayer—“Help thou mine unbelief”—is one of the most honest in scripture. And it is enough.

Hearing Him means listening when He teaches, yes. But also when He waits. When He lifts. When He meets us with compassion even as we whisper our incomplete faith.

🙏 3. True Discipleship Lives Between Both Worlds

Peter wanted to stay in the glory. He said, “Let us make three tabernacles.” But Jesus didn’t allow it. Why?

Because discipleship isn't about camping in comfort; it’s about carrying light into darkness. Jesus invites us to see His glory so that we might then serve with His love. We are meant to move from awe to action, from insight to compassion, from revelation to healing.


In Closing

Mark 9 teaches us that both the mountaintop and the valley are sacred. We come to the mountain to see Christ in glory. We go to the valley to walk with Him in love.

And wherever we are on that journey—whether radiant with faith or whispering through our unbelief—He is there. And He still says to each of us:

“Be not afraid. Only believe.”
—Mark 5:36

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

“Behold, Service Was Joy: Discovering Life’s True Reward”



 Dear Reader, 

  I once believed that joy was something to be found—waiting in dreams or granted through good fortune. But life has taught me, through both experience and reflection, that true joy is not something we receive; it’s something we uncover through service, duty, and action. 

  

Rabindranath Tagore’s words echo this truth: 

  

“I slept and dreamt that life was joy. 

I awoke and saw that life was service. 

I acted and behold, service was joy.” 

  

This insight, whether expressed through the word “service” or “duty,” reminds us that joy is not the opposite of responsibility—it is the fruit of meaningful responsibility. 

  

The scriptures support this truth. In the Book of Mormon, King Benjamin teaches: 

  

“When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.” 

(Mosiah 2:17) 

  

And Jesus himself taught: 

  

“He that is greatest among you shall be your servant.” 

(Matthew 23:11) 

  

These verses do not glorify exhaustion or self-neglect. Rather, they invite us to discover a deeper strength: the joy that comes when our hands, hearts, and intentions are united in lifting others. 

  

The Bhagavad Gita offers this parallel wisdom: 

  

“By working without attachment, one attains the Supreme.” 

(3:19) 

  

And in the world of recovery, we are reminded again and again: 

  

“Nothing will so much insure immunity from drinking as intensive work with other alcoholics. It works when other activities fail.” 

(Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 89) 

  

Serving others becomes more than just helpful—it becomes healing. 

  

Leo Tolstoy expressed it plainly: 

  

“The sole meaning of life is to serve humanity.” 

  

And Albert Schweitzer added: 

  

“The only ones among you who will be really happy are those who will have sought and found how to serve.” 

  

Whether from scripture, literature, or the voices of recovery, the message is the same: Joy is not found in watching life from the sidelines. It emerges when we give, lift, love, and serve. 

  

So let us rise each day not just to dream of joy, but to live it—through service, through duty, through love in action. 

  

By God's Grace. Amen