I know the church is true

Perhaps the most common phrase of a testimony: "I know the church is true".  I've heard it said over the pulpit, in Sunday School, and even during casual conversations.  It's usually said as if it was ultimate in bearing testimony:

I know the church is true.

End of discussion, the rest is just details on that one simple sentence.   But what it mean anyway?  Sometimes I get the feeling it's said as patter to allow the testifier time to think of what they really want to say.  It's a tradition, and your testimony is incomplete without it, so you might as well say it at the beginning and move in to what you really think.  I wonder how often it is said without any real intent behind it.  How often do we ask ourselves: What does it mean for a church to be true?

----- "I know this is truly a church?"  Well gee, legally defined there's hundreds of churches (at least) and I'll bet most people in the US would say the LDS church is one of the more weird churches on the list.  We do strange things like forbid coffee and sometimes we are called a cult.  So if this is what people mean by "I know the church is true" then perhaps it's a statement that we are people just like every other church, seeking to follow God just as every religious person.  In fact it's important to remember that being Mormon does not mean you're going to be magically perfect.  Like the time the baby got dropped during a baby blessing.

Sometime things, like a baby blessing always go so smoothly you forget it's real people trying to fumble through life.  In the West View Ward in Cedar there was a baby blessing just like thousands of other baby blessings, and Teasha and I had our eyes closed.  The baby girl was a little fussy, but the speaker was confidently talking into the microphone.  The speaker was blessing the baby to feel the spirit, and have a desire to go to the temple when suddenly there was a noise of a microphone being fumbled and scraped and a mumble of hushed voices.  Then a baby SCREAM!  The wailing was loud enough that the speaker had to nearly shout, "Andalltheseblessingswesay inthenameofJesusChrist Amen!" There was a sound of more muffled hurried movement and a screaming baby was held up for the classic "Lion King" pose and the father (with the mother) rushed out.  Turns out the brethren had been trying to bounce the baby to help it calm down, and with 12 hands trying to bounce there was a moment where they all went a touch too hard and the baby rolled off the handmade platform.  The heroic father caught the girl's dress six inches from the ground.  The baby blessing was finished and it was determined later the child was no worse for the wear.  So yes, I know this is truly a church, with people who are just people and make mistakes and do dumb things and try to act all polished.  I cannot afford to forget that and demand perfection of my brothers and sisters in the church.

-----"I know the church building is built true?" Engineer's say "true" means solid and square.  Not exactly what you expect in a testimony.  There is value in understanding that you are in a sacred building, and it should be treated as such.  We do not run in the church halls or yell during meetings.  On the other hand, the building is only a tool, and not something that should be worshiped.  I remember a day that Teasha was pregnant with Spencer, and a hunger craving hit.  It was apparently quite severe, so bad that Teasha had to leave class.  She couldn't very well go home, it was a 20 minute drive and church was almost over.  She needed something - desperately - so she found the only bit of food we had - a bag of popcorn.

As I came out of my last class the smell of popcorn permeated the entire building.  By the raised noses and flaring nostrils I could tell other people were smelling it too.  I was annoyed - who in their right mind would be so rude as to fill the church with a popcorn smell?  I assumed it was a teenager who had skipped class to have fun without respecting the sacred nature of the building.  In my head I had some sharp words for that rude teenager.  I gathered the children, but my wife was no where to be found.  Finally as the crowds thinned out I found her sitting on the sidewalk outside eating the last of a bag of popcorn.  In answer to my smirking expression she explained that she knew it was smelling, so she took it outside.  She explained the incredible hunger and how this was the only solution she could find.  Sure - now I could understand it, but I asked how many other people had expressed disdain at her decision.  "Not a single person." She said.  "Everyone seems to have understood that I had good reasons, and accepted it as that without question."  What a statement!  Perhaps they were all more righteous than me with my smug sense of reverence.  They understood that the church is truly a building, only a tool to be used for the saints to grow closer to God, however that pops up. 

----- "I know it is true that this is my church?"  Perhaps a declaration of allegiance to the church would be a good thing, but I like to think my membership is more than just a statement of what religion I was born into.  It should be born of a relationship with Jesus and a sense of brotherhood with the fellow members.  When our children are born we try to foster their relationship to the Lord, and help them fit in with the other ward members so that they can say this is their church for the right reasons.  Of course sometimes my children remind me that of those two reasons - a commitment to the Lord is by far the most important.

Once when Thomas was just two years old the chapel went silent as we prepared for the sacrament hymn.  In that 3 second silence Thomas stood on the pew and shouted, "JESUS IS MEAN!"  Teasha and I immediately pounced on the boy sitting him down and hissing, "What?  What?"  he repeated, "Jesah's mean!"  I asked him, "Are you saying that Jesus is mean?"  He looked at me confused, "No!  No!  Jeesah.  Jeesal's mean!"  My head spun - his two year old accent was hard to catch.  Finally it struck me.  "Are you saying Diesel - the bad guy on the Thomas the train movie?  Dee-Sell?"  He grinned, "Yeah, yeah, Jieseh, Jiesel's mean."  As the congregation sung the hymn I gave Teasha the eye roll, and hissed, "So do you feel like Jesus is mean?"  He whispered in the softest voice possible, "Oh no - Jesus is very nice, Jesus loves me."  Why did he yell the first sentence and whisper the last one?  I looked around, sure that people were hiding smirks behind the hymnbooks.  Great - now I wonder what they think of Brother and Sister Crawford's teachings at home.  As the sacrament started and I sank into embarrassment the spirit sent me a little message.  Yes - maybe the other ward members would think badly of me, but that was not nearly as important as the simple testimony that Jesus loves my little boy.  He knows the Lord cares for him, and he goes to church to show the Savior his love.  This is Thomas' church, and it's my church too, and I go there for the Lord.

----- "I know this church is truly where I should be?"  When I teach statistics 90% of my students believe they don't need to be in class to learn the material.  The fact is only 2% could actually learn it without coming to class, and they are the type of students that wants to be in class.  Because I care for my students I force them to come to class with quizzes.  I know that when they are in my class they will learn better than without it.  I believe that idea is one reason the Lord has commanded us to be in church.  He knows we truly need to be in church to become like Him.

When I was at the MTC one Sunday a speaker was giving a talk on teaching by the spirit.  He emphasized that the spirit would tell our investigators greater things than what we were trying to teach.  In a moment of bravery and inspiration he turned to the old couple seated on the bench in front of his podium.  He said "I'll bet the spirit is telling you something, and I'll bet it's some insight that I haven't actually spoken.  I can tell by your face, am I right?"  The man looked up and said, "I need to apologize to my wife."  Then he turned to her and said, "Dear, I was wrong, and it was very unkind of me.  I am very sorry.  Can you forgive me?"  She gave a funny smile and reached for his hand.  I have no idea what he was apologizing for, but it made a strong impression on me.  The spirit taught that man something based the fact that he was listening to a speaker at church - not because the speaker was talking about asking for forgiveness.  Church is the right place to be, and whether the speakers are boring or the kids are crazy the Lord will bless me for being there.

 ----- "I know that living by the churches teachings has brought bring me blessings?"  This is the beginning of a testimony.  The Lord has said, "prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it." (Malachi 3:10).  Alma said, "because ye have tried the experiment, and planted the seed, and it swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, ye must needs know that the seed is good. And now, behold, is your knowledge perfect? Yea, your knowledge is perfect in that thing," (Alma 32:33).  So a testimony starts by testing the Lord, and receiving blessings.

I would argue that a testimony needs to grow beyond that or it will fail.  The failure will happen when we do what is right and we receive trials anyway.  I have a friend, Roger, who was serving a mission when he met a wonderful beautiful girl.  She was interested in the church at first, then interested in Roger, and then he was transferred to a different town.  He felt a strong attachment to her, and tried to understand his feelings.  The Mission President counseled him to not let this girl distract him from his mission.  He was obedient and finished his mission with honor.  Afterwards he continued communication with this girl who had no interest in the church, but did have interest in him.  Friends and family advised him to find a wife whom he could take to the temple, one with a testimony in the Savior and the commandments of God.  He felt like he had served his mission faithfully, and deserved the love he felt for her.  He decided if the church was of God then it would want him to receive the blessing of marrying the girl he loved.  He returned to his mission, married the girl, and never again went to church.  In later years he ran a website dedicated to encouraging missionaries to leave the church.  I learned to live by the commandments of God as taught through His church, regardless of the blessings or trials I face, because the eternal rewards are only kept for those who faithfully endure to the end.  I hope someday my testimony will be strong enough that I keep the commandments purely out of love for the Savior.

 ----- "I know that there are true things taught in this church?"  The Lord said, "truth is knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come" (D&C 93:24).  One sure way to test if something is true is to see whether it really is what it says it is.  In other words, do the teachings of the church improve your life and help you to be more Christlike?  Do the scriptures help you to be more righteous?

My father-in-law has learned the church teaches truth.  When Teasha was a little girl she and her little sister both got dolls for Christmas.   Candace broke her doll, and she tried to switch her doll with Teasha's.  As you can guess a fight ensued.  Their father came downstairs and quickly got up to speed on the "It's my doll" "No it's my doll" problem.  He took the doll, went upstairs, and melodramatically brandished a massive carving knife.  With a flourish he explained that since they could not agree on who owned the doll, he would chop it in half and give half to each girl.  Candace shrugged that it was fine, but Teasha cried, "No!  Don't cut her!  Fine!  Give the doll to Candace!"  Then he returned the knife, sat them both down, and read to them the story from King Solomon.  "Then the king answered and said, Give her the living child, and in no wise slay it: she is the mother thereof." (1 Kings 3:27).  Then they both agreed the doll was Teasha's, and the fight was resolved.  My father-in-law knew that the scriptures provided truth and wisdom and he knew how to use that wisdom to bless his life and the lives of his children.

----- "I know that only true things are taught in this church?"  Wouldn't it be nice if this was actually accurate?  I do believe there is truth taught in the church, and I believe God only speaks the truth, and the church teaches the word of God.  I also believe people can say things in church that may not always be from God, and it's important to understand that "the church" is a collection of people - people who have weaknesses and make mistakes just as anyone does.  Recognizing that means you won't lose your testimony when you hear some of the things I've heard during testimony meetings.

One Sunday a member got up to bear his testimony, "I'd just like to apologize to all the members of the ward choir that met this morning.  I was a little out of line, and I got angry, and I just want to say I'm sorry."  He was followed by four other members of the ward choir who got up and apologized to each other for their rude remarks that morning.  Not what you'd expect in a testimony meeting, but I guess it was effective.  Another Sunday I heard a member bear testimony about how annoying her neighbor was for letting their stupid dog bark all the time.  Fortunately I found out the neighbor was not at church that day.  A different Sunday had a member of the bishopric lecture the ward on how rude it was to call him short.  He said, "I've fired people older than most of you in this ward, don't you dare try to comment on my height as a measure of my worth!"  It was a fifteen minute testimony, and at the end I noticed everyone was looking stunned.  Believe it or not - all three of these stories are from the same ward - and all three happened in three consecutive months.  Teasha and I got to where we would anxiously await the next testimony meeting to see what it would bring.  But this did not lower our testimony because we understood that while a testimony ought to be about Christ and the restored gospel, these were people who were trying to live their lives despite personal challenges.  We afforded them the right to rant and rave over the pulpit, hoping that when they see us make mistakes they will love us all the more for it.

----- "I know the church is truly doing what God intended it to do?"  If that is what the person means when they say the church is true then it's actually a strong statement.  It means that while there may be errors and mistakes made by the members this is the still the way God wants things done, and that takes some faith.  There have been times I worried if I was doing things as Jesus would want it done, and I was very aware of my faults.  Without fail I learn afterwards that the Lord was helping me more than I knew, and his designs were accomplished in surprising ways.

Ever heard of "that one class"?  The class that no one wants to teach because the kids are out of control?  In Cedar Hills there was such a class, and I was asked to teach it when the previous teacher said they couldn't stand it anymore.  From the first 10 minutes of class I could see these were 7 highly active eight year olds, and they were not ready for a reverent teaching style.  Two students in particular were hard to keep calm: Celina and Austin.  Neither was purposely mean or evil, they simply had lots of exciting things on their mind and church was sometimes boring.  I tried my best to make the lessons interesting and to encourage them to be reverent.  After months of teaching them I decided I had not been successful.  I felt sad that the Lord had given me a task and I had failed.  I hoped the progress of these children would not be stunted because of me.  I finished my master's degree and got ready to move to Texas for a PhD.  When these children learned of my move they were devastated.  I was surprised to find they loved my class and wanted me to stay.  Austin and Celina in particular were sad to hear I was going.  Austin looked like he might cry, and Celina couldn't stop trying to talk me out of leaving.  Suddenly I had to reevaluate my success.  Austins father told me that his son was starting to have trouble going to church at all, until I started teaching.  Soon he was willing and even eager to come.  Everyone thanked me for my service.  I gained an understanding that even when I feel like I am not doing things perfect, the Lord is in control of his church.  He inspires people to their callings, and he helps them when they fall short.  This church is God's kingdom on Earth.

 ----- "I know this church was organized by God's command?"  Every church claims to be God's intended church, so saying it is "true" could mean it has God's official approval.  The D&C testifies that this church is "the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth, with which I, the Lord, am well pleased, speaking unto the church collectively and not individually—" (D&C 1:30)  This testimony naturally follows into an acceptance of the church leaders as the authorized servants of God.  Accepting their leadership can sometimes take faith, but it is always rewarded with blessings.

My Uncle Jim was a bishop and as such held interviews for temple recommends.  When an 80 year old lady came in for a recommend he assumed things would be fairly straightforward.  As he asked the common questions for such an interview he got to the question, "Sister, do you live the law of chastity?"  Suddenly this 80 year old woman blushed, looked around and said in a subdued voice, "Well, you know... I try."  Uncle Jim stopped.  It seemed as if the world stopped.  But he was a servant of the Lord, nothing more, so seeking the spirit he asked the next question, "Sister, is there a part that is a problem?"  She sighed, "Well you know, I try so hard to love everybody, but sometimes it's just hard."  Uncle Jim leaned in, "Sister, that's the law of charity.   I'm asking if you keep the law of chastity."  Suddenly she became animated, "Oh my goodness, well yes, of course.  I thought you meant, I mean, well yes I keep that law.  It's loving everyone that I'm still working on."  They both shared a laugh and the rest of the interview went well.  Because she trusted her bishop she was willing to open up her weakness to him.  Because he was a servant of the Lord he was able to understand her as He understood her.  Both were drawn closer to the Savior as they served in his kingdom.  That's the blessing from a testimony that this church is organized by God.

----- "I know this church has the true power of God?"  That is one aspect that makes this church different from other churches: the priesthood of God passed on from authorized holders of the priesthood.  To claim to wield the power of God is a bold statement, but I think if we had better testimonies of this we could do more for the Lord.  If we really believed it our lives would change to reflect the sacred privilege.

I contend that few us truly mean this when we say "the church is true" because of an experiment I tried when I was sick in Texas.  I called the hometeachers for a blessing, and when they came I turned to one said, "I'd like for you to anoint me."  Then turning to the other I said, "And I'd like for you to heal me."  He spluttered and did a half chuckle, and then said, "How about I give you blessing?"  I said, "That would be great."  Afterwards I wondered why the hesitation to believe he could heal me.  I've repeated the request a number of times when I've been sick since then, and the reaction is always hesitation.  Is it because God cannot heal a sick person?  Is it because we do not believe we have that power?  Is it because we do not believe we are worthy enough to wield that power?  Whatever the reason, there's always this hesitation to throw our faith on the line and work miracles through the priesthood.  Perhaps this is the sort of testimony we should seek for a little more. 


----- "I know the church leaders were truly called of God?"  The beauty of a testimony is that if you know one thing, the rest all falls into place.  If the leaders are called of God, then the church teaches things that are true, and the Book of Mormon is truly what it claims to be, and you can bear testimony of every other aspect of the gospel based on that one bit of knowledge.  I suspect at first this testimony is easy to have at first, but sometimes it can be tested as we discover the leaders are people just like us.


My sister, Julie, worked at the church office building for a few years, and one day on her way to work she was passed up by a tall fast moving man.  That man turned out to be the first councilor to the prophet, Thomas S. Monson.  She told me you don't realize how big he is until you see him up close, and he was in a hurry.  Curious to see if she could match his mighty stride Julie fell in line behind him and followed him up to the side entrance.  That small door was only for employees and had a card reader lock.  Julie had a card for that door, so she decided to follow President Monson up to the side entrance into the church office building.  She had kept up with his long strides, but as he approached the door she was out of breath.  Then as President Monson took his card out of his pocket it dropped to the ground.  Just as Julie came up behind him he half turned and bent down to pick up the card.  With hardly time to squeak Julie was squished between the wall and his bum.  He immediately jerked up, whirled around and apologized to Julie.  He profusely explained he didn't know she was there, asked if she was ok, and opened the door for her.  Julie was a cross between being mortified and laughing hysterically.  Did that instance change her opinion of that man?  Not at all.  She testified to me that President Monson was called of God.  He is a man who has a special job to do, but he is simply trying his best to fulfill God's command to him.  Expecting a prophet to be magical or flawless isn't a testimony, it's an unrealistic expectation.  A true testimony born of the spirit will help us follow the leaders because we know they have been given their commands from the Lord.


----- "I know that this church has all the revealed truth, and some truths are only found here."  I think when I say "I know the church is true" this is what I mean.  The ancient revelations from God in the Old and New Testaments are found in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  There are some ancient revelations only found in the LDS church, such as the Book of Mormon.  There is modern revelation such as D&C that is only in the Mormon church, and even though there are splinter religions from this church that use those books, there are new instructions and truths taught each month from the current prophets and leaders that are only found in the LDS publications.  There is so much truth I want to learn.  What is heaven like?  What about internet use?  What about wearing jeans?  What is the future of America?  This church has the words of God.  My testimony of this church helps me to live worth of the spirit to understand these truths and receive my own personal revelation too. 

I know this church is true.

Elder Humor

As a missionary in Brazil we traveled during transfers by bus.  I remember when I was first assigned to be the district leader in Curitibanos the bus ride was several hours of cramped bumpy riding.  When I finally arrived it was past the official bedtime, and I was worn out.  I had traveled with another missionary who would also be serving in Curitibanos with a different companion.  The four of us were in the same house, Elder Martins would be waiting for me while Elder Maciel was waiting for Elder Williams who had traveled with me.  We passed an open supermarket and grabbed a bite to eat on the way to our new home as well as breakfast food for the next day.

We entered the apartment and found Elder Martins and Elder Maciel standing at attention in the hallway in pajamas.  I said hi, put the breakfast food in the kitchen, and found them still standing at attention in the hallway.  Both were native Brazilian, and I knew many Brazilians served in the military for a year before their missions.  I was so tired I didn't have time to play the military leader.  I said goodnight to them.  They replied "Goodnight Elder Crawford" and everyone turned in.  I remember vaguely hoping they weren't going to try to turn our apartment into a boot camp.

The next morning I was still tired, but by the time I was showered, dressed, and heading for breakfast I found Elder Maciel at the table eating cereal.  He had his tie on, shoes on, his hair was brushed, and he was sitting straight reading his scriptures while he ate.  I looked at myself and realized I was either slow or this guy was a genuine machine.  Still he hadn't said more than three words to me.  Typically the first day has a "get to know you" feel, but these Elders didn't seem the warm type.

I didn't want to interrupt his scripture reading, so I poured a bowl and conveniently sat across the table from him.  I decided I'd try just a little experiment to see how Elder Maciel would react.  I made a show of being really excited to eat my cereal, doing a little dance and dramatically dipping my spoon into the bowl.  As soon as the spoon was hidden under the milk I deftly twirled it so that it came out upside down.  I pretended not to be watching as the upside spoon (obviously empty) went into my mouth.  I made a confused face, pulled the spoon out and stared at it.  With my left hand I reached around and turned the spoon right side up.  I stared at it for a second suspiciously and then dropped it in the milk again.  I looked around as if embarrassed.

Elder Maciel's eyes were locked on me, the scriptures still held motionless in his hands.

The spoon came out upside down again as I nodded to Elder Maciel.  I put the spoon in my mouth and pulled it out with a look of bewilderment.  I craned my neck to see the underside of the spoon.  My left hand turned it around and I stared at it daring the spoon to flip again.  With a resigned shake of my head I dipped it in the bowl again, looking around at Elder Williams near the sink.

Elder Maciel's eyes were huge.  He sat ramrod straight staring at me as I were an alien.

The spoon came out upside down and just before I put it into my mouth I looked down.  With a look of utmost rage I banged the spoon on the table.  "Elder Williams!" I called, "Can you get me a new spoon?  This one seems to be broken."

Suddenly the table was shaking.  Elder Maciel was laughing.  I did it!  I cracked him!  I broke the stone faced Elder!  He chuckled, threw his head back and laughed.  Putting his hand over his mouth he giggled.  Elder Williams came over and asked what I had done.  I waved him off saying I'd explain later and watched Elder Maciel clutch his side with fits of laughter.

After a minute of watching Elder Maciel laugh Elder Williams and I were laughing ourselves at his guffaws.  Elder Martins came in with eyes huge and asked what was going on.  I explained to everyone how I was pretending my spoon wouldn't stay right side up and Elder Maciel tumbled off his chair and lay on the floor whooping and laughing.   I noticed Elder Martins wasn't looking at Elder Maciel, he was looking at me, as if worried I would be angry, but I was just glad to see these two acting like real people instead of drill sergeants.

Elder Maciel laughed, rolled on the floor and laughed some more.  Elder Williams and I laughed at his antics.  Then he guffawed, tipped his head back and roared with laughter.  Then he snickered and hooted and chortled.  He chuckled with hysterics, and curled his knees up in giggles.  I looked at my watch.  It was going on a good three minutes now.  The joke was kind of dead.  Elder Maciel laughed and laughed.  I looked at Elder Williams, who looked at me with this expression of "What did you do to my companion?"

Elder Maciel grabbed his knees and let loose a new bout of laughing fits.  I looked at Elder Williams and I'm sure we both had the same worried expression on our faces.  Elder Martins just stood there staring at Elder Maciel with a look of half amusement, half grief.  My goal had been to crack Elder Maciel - to break him.  Maybe I did it too well.

Going into four minutes of straight laughter I turned to Elder Martins.   "What's going on?   Is there something I should know?  It was maybe funny, but it wasn't this funny.  This isn't a normal reaction.  Do you know what's wrong with Elder Maciel?"

For the first time Elder Martins's figure relaxed, and he slumped into a chair.  "Elder Crawford, this is our first area.  We were in the Sao Paulo MTC together and we both assigned to Curitibanos 3 months ago.  At the MTC Elder Maciel was always the funny one in the group.  He told jokes, played tricks, and made the long days of studying fun.  I was glad to be serving with him.  The previous District Leader was Elder Maciel's companion, and as soon as he saw how jovial his companion was he put a stop to it immediately.  Within a few days we had rules about no jokes, no laughing, and punishments for Elders who disobeyed.  He told us that when we joked around we were demeaning our sacred call from the Lord Jesus Christ, and it was like we were crucifying him anew.  He read D&C 88:121 'Therefore, cease from all your light speeches, from all laughter, from all your lustful desires, from all your pride and light-mindedness, and from all your wicked doings.'  He told us that laughing was next to adultery and idolatry.  When Sarah laughed in Genesis 18:12 the Lord chastised her.  I haven't seen Elder Maciel smile in three months."

After 5 minutes of laughing Elder Maciel gained control of himself and got back in his chair.  His expression was like a victorious marathon runner.  "Elder Maciel?"  I asked, "Would you like to talk?  What have your past three months been like?" 

"Like all the joy in the world had been killed.  Like eternity would be nothing but misery."

I asked the Elders if I could go on splits to have a chat with Elder Maciel.  Kindly they didn't have an issue with it.  He told me, "Elder Crawford, a week ago I decided to go home.  I just couldn't take it anymore.  I've prayed and asked God for help, but everything I did was an insult to God.  If I told a joke I was evil.  If I laughed I was sinful.  Everything I did was an insult to my sacred calling and dragged down the missionary work for me and everyone around me.  I was so miserable.  If this is what it means to be a disciple I wasn't sure I wanted to be one.  Besides, it sounded like the best thing I could do for the missionary work was to take myself out of it.  I asked God to help me know if it was the right decision.  Then my companion was transferred."

He continued, "I had learned how to not be hurt by my past companion.  I had learned to stay very quiet, to do exactly as told, to say the right things at the right time.  If I had to learn what the new District Leader wanted all over again it would be too much.  Still I decided I wait until you came to officially put in my mission resignation.  Don't get me wrong, I want to serve the Lord, but if I'm not missionary material I might as well stop suffering with it.  Then last night you came in, you barely said three words and went to bed.  I could tell you were a good missionary because you didn't laugh, didn't joke, and you were all about the business of the Lord.  You were everything I wished I could be.  I decided I could never be as good as you, and so I needed to go home.  I prayed that at some point the Lord would help me see how I could be like you, but I knew it wouldn't happen anytime soon."

Then he looked at me and smiled, "Then that spoon thing!  It was so obvious you were making it up, such a lame joke, but it was a joke!  The spirit told me you were not a bad missionary, but you were goofing off during breakfast!  And then I started laughing and I just couldn't stop.  I knew it was wrong to laugh, but I was leaving anyway so I just let it out.  It felt like all the pain and misery of the last three months was bleeding out with each laugh.  I felt happy and energized.  Most surprisingly I don't feel like I've offended the spirit.  I feel like I could testify of the goodness of the Lord again.  I feel better now than I have been in months.  So tell me, is it wrong to laugh?"


 I sighed, "Elder, Maciel, I don't pretend to know all the answers, and I do think that goofing off can get out of hand.  That story of Sarah in Genesis?  She laughed because she couldn't believe the Lord would bless her with a child.  In D&C the Lord is clear that the excessive and loud laughter was demeaning to the spirit.  I think it's very easy to goof off too much - even Joseph Smith said "I was guilty of levity, and sometimes associated with jovial company, etc., not consistent with that character which ought to be maintained by one who was called of God" (JSH 1:28).  I suppose there are many times I have been guilty of that - going too far and getting out of control."


I looked at him, "But I think it's just as bad to sin the other way.  "Adam fell that men might be, and men are that they might have joy!" (2 Nephi 2:25).  The Lord doesn't want us to be sad.  After Sarah's child was born she said, "all that hear will laugh with me." (Genesis 21:6)  She knew her blessing would bring such joy that laughter was inevitable.  Psalms 2:4 says "He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh".  I think God has a sense of humor.  The prophet Gordon B. Hinckley is often laughing!  I use laughter to help me view things in the proper light - some are trivial, some are not trivial, but they will pass."

We talked about the purpose of life, the scriptures, sins and blessings.  In the end we decided there was some ideal middle ground - happy and good natured without being out of control or sacrilegious.  I told Elder Maciel that if he was the jovial type, then I wanted him to perfect himself by starting where he was, and not change his personality to match what I or any other missionary thought he should be.  I told him he could expect a lot of joking around and goofing off with me, and I asked him to help me see when my lightheartedness was inappropriate.  Where he had thought missionaries were supposed to be sad, I planned to make it our apartment a place of joy.  "Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh." (Luke 6:21)

I'd like to add a footnote that our humor never went too far.  I'd like to add that footnote, but in good conscience I don't think I can.  I still remember the prayer that everyone snickered through.  I'll even admit I still haven't perfected self control enough to claim I avoid inappropriate laughter.  But I'm working on it, and if the Lord is patient with me I will improve.  When I get down on myself I remember Elder Maciel and I realize it could be worse - I could have no sense of humor!  Elder Maciel and I share a common personality, and in our discussion we both progressed just a little more.  When Elder Maciel finished his mission with honor he wrote to me and told me how his testimony of the Savior had grown.  Someday in heaven I will meet him again with a hug and we will laugh and share our life's story.

Hometeaching Russ

Usually home teaching follows a typical pattern.  You call and make an appointment.  The family graciously allows you to come into their home.  You share a message.  At the end you ask the family if there's anything you can do for them.  When they decline you remind them that they are always welcome to call.  There is a prayer said before you go.

Usually.

Sometimes it ends up being a life changing experience.  As a freshman I remember my home teaching companion, John, was a senior.  We were both single, and one of our home teaching assignments was a girl in the women's dorm.  When we knocked on the door 6 young ladies greeted us with squeals of delight "Ooh!  Home teachers!  We've never had home teachers come before!  Are you here for all of us or one of us in particular?"  The truth was only one of them, but we looked at each other and coolly replied, "Why all of you of course.  You say you've never seen your home teachers before?"  It was a delight to be so highly desired.  After we left and their dorm door closed behind us my companion John turned to me, "Want to try another door?"   We knocked next door, and our first question was "Have you had your home teachers come through before?"  Once we were sure we weren't going to get busted we introduced ourselves as their home teachers and shared a delightful lesson.  We ended up home teaching 3 and sometimes 4 dorm rooms full of girls.  My companion ended up marrying one of the 20 girls we taught out of that dorm building.  Ironically it was the only girl we were actually supposed to be teaching.  Life changing indeed.

But the home teaching assignment that changed my life was Russ.  That was in my home town in a ward with a large boundary.  My newly assigned home teaching companion was a new member, and  I figured it was my duty to show him what good home teaching was like.  I contacted him the first week we got our assignments.  One of our assignments was to Russ and his family.

There's always this feeling that you can wait one more week.  I remember being tired, and my companion wasn't that eager to get going.  Still, just like the Nephites gearing up for war I felt I was"doing that which they felt was the duty which they owed to their God" (Alma 43:46).  This was what I was supposed to do, so let's just get it done.  I approached Russ at the end of church and said,

"Hey, Russ, we've just been assigned to be your new home teachers.  Would you mind if we planned a time to come visit?"

"WHAT!  Are you serious?  Are you really serious?  You're my home teacher?"

This is not a typical first reaction.  He was gazing at me intensely and I could tell he was agitated.  Had I done something offensive?  Quickly I reviewed my memory for interactions with him.

"Uh, yeah, really.  I was thinking either this afternoon or maybe next week..."

"WOW!  Really!  You're my home teachers!  Hey, um, that's great, that's really great!  You're my home teachers?"

"Um.  Yup.  For real.  Say, Russ, do you think we could plan a time to come by?"

"Yes!  Anytime!  Just say when and I'll be there!"

"Ok.... can we come this afternoon, say 1:00?"

"No.  No that won't work.   Can you pick a different time?"

"Uh - like 3:00, or 7:00?"

"Nope.  No - can you pick a different day?"

"Uhhhhh.  Would Tuesday evening work?"

"No, that won't do.  When else could you come?"

I looked at my companion.  I thought I knew Russ as a sensible guy, but his reaction was a little extreme on the eager side, and now it was extreme on the hesitant side.  Finally I offered Thursday afternoon, and Russ ecstatically said that was perfect and he was looking forward to it.

Later my companion (who hadn't done much home teaching before he was baptized) asked if that was typical.  I told him that was definitely an unusual reaction, but it was much better than trying to home teach someone who didn't like our visits.  I couldn't tell if he was being funny or just having a strange day, but I could roll with either one.

On Thursday we went to Russ' house.  He got his wife and sons in the living room, and we shared a lesson.  He made sure his two teenage boys weren't playing or reading, and everyone was very nice.   It was a good visit.  As we left he escorted us out and asked us when we planned on coming back.  I figured in a month, but if he liked our visits we could swing by earlier, say in two weeks.   He said that was great, he loved having us come, and we set up an appointment two weeks later.  I asked him if he previous home teachers came very often.  Turns out they never came.  At least that explained his surprise when we wanted to come visit.

At this point something interesting happened.  You see, I've taught families that didn't really like our visits, and they are always hard to call.  You just know you're bugging them.  I've taught families that were indifferent, and it's hard to find the time.  But Russ loved it when we came.  He thanked us repeatedly, and he paid careful attention.  Sometimes we would try to set up a time to visit and he would tell us no, but then he would offer suggestions until we found a time that would work.  Because Russ was so happy to have us visit we loved setting up appointments and visiting with him.  Often after our lesson he would bear a strong heartfelt testimony.

We became friends, and my companion became more eager to be part of the home teaching.  We would plan regular times to visit, and it was more than once a month.  Sometimes when I felt like it I'd swing by Russ' house just to see how he was doing.  His sons put up with us, his wife was quiet, but Russ participated in the lessons.  Because Russ was happy to see us we didn't feel annoyed when we needed to call him, I found myself putting a little extra time into preparing the lesson, and it wasn't hard to remember to do my home teaching.  The "chore" of home teaching became a joy.

One day my companion and I were visiting a different family, and we decided to stop by Russ' house to see how he was doing.  We found him outside working on his car.  We chatted for a bit, and he said he would invite us in to give a lesson but his sons were gone.  He said he always tried real hard to make sure we came when he knew his sons were home.  That was why he sometimes said no to our appointments.  Then he told me an astounding story.

He told us that there had been a time when he wasn't really close the church.  He was interested in other things, and didn't attend church for a while.  His sons were little, and he figured it wasn't a big deal.  He had always planned on going back to church - there was just other things he was doing at the time.  Then one day he realized his sons weren't exactly little anymore.  Time had gone fast and he started to see what he was missing.  He yearned for the spirit and returned to regular church attendance.  As he saw what he had been missing his spirituality grew.

He gained a strong testimony and had learned the hard way how to keep close the Lord.  But by then there was consequences.  His sons had decided they didn't want to go to church every week. 
As they went through their teenage years Russ became more spiritually sensitive, and his sons became more rebellious.  As Russ tried to encourage his sons to be more faithful they started to fight harder and argue more.  His wife wasn't the type to fight, and so the sons became less active while Russ became a steadfast pillar in the ward.

Finally he was hitting his breaking point.  Every Sunday turned into a fight, and young men's activities became a battle ground.  Russ was trying to teach the truths he had learned, but his sons had stopped listening.  Finally one Sunday morning he tried harder than ever to get his boys to church.  They slipped out of the house and disappeared.  Exhausted Russ wasn't sure if he could continue.  On his way to church he stopped and prayed.

He told Heavenly Father that he cared about his sons, but he didn't want to always argue with them.  He told God that he was tired and if he didn't get some help he would have to stop and give up on teaching his boys.  He loved them, but he didn't want to be the only one who was always lecturing them.  He prayed that if God would send him help he would keep trying - otherwise today was the end.

After church we told Russ we were his home teachers.  He wanted us to come that afternoon, but he realized his boys would probably not come home until late at night.  Tuesday his sons worked, but Thursday they should be home.  He told us how much he appreciated us coming into his home and saying things he wanted his sons to hear.  Since we were not the dad they didn't argue with us, and while they appeared to not be paying attention, at least they didn't storm off and leave.  It was the extra help Russ needed, and now he could testify in front of his sons without it being confrontational to them. 


I would love to say that we brought his sons back to full activity.  Later I heard one of his sons became active in the single's ward - likely because of a sister.  But the miracle was that when Russ needed help the Lord sent him home teachers.  When the scripture says "mine angels [shall be] round about you, to bear you up" (D&C 84:88) sometimes that refers to home teachers.  What if I had decided to not worry about it?  What if I had told myself it could wait until next week?  Since that day I have tried to promise myself I would never let home teaching take a back seat in my priority list.  Even when most visits follow a typical pattern, one of them might be an answer to prayer.

Hypocritical Snow Forts

All right, I admit.  I tend to be a little competitive.  Maybe too competitive.  Everything is always a contest - who can lift the most at the gym, who's going faster on the highway, who gets ready for church the earliest.  But I have had to learn that winning is not always the most important thing.  You don't win when you're building hypocritical snow forts.

You see when I was 10, my brother was 14 and that January we got a foot and a half of snow.  We decided to build snow forts in the back yard, and have us a Calvin and Hobbes type war.  My brother got the monstrously huge snow shovel and started mounding up a mini mountain on his side of the yard.  I couldn't lift the big shovel, so I scooped with a smaller shovel.  I tried using buckets to carry snow, but no matter how hard I worked Chad's bulwark grew large while my mound would be difficult to hide behind.

The time came that Chad needed to go deliver papers.  It would take him three hours to fold the papers into bags and tromp through the snow to deliver them.  By then it would be dark, so we agreed to commence our battle in the morning.   I had three hours to find a solution to beat my brother, and I was going to win this war at any cost.

Destroying his fort would be too obvious.  I want a way to cheat that isn't obvious.  I need a way to build a snow fort quickly and have it be impenetrable.  I need.... the 2x4's.

In the very back of our yard was the wood pile.  It was an eclectic mix of  wood, including various sized 2x4 boards.  I quickly grabbed a couple of arm fulls and pegged them into the snow.  By putting some 2x4's across the top I had a makeshift wooden fort.  I spent the next three hours mounding it over with snow to hide the wood.  I even made the sides slope down so it would look like an ordinary mound of snow.  I finished about the time it got dark and my brother got home.  We agreed to a battle the next morning.

Sure it was cheating, but I had to beat my brother!  Since it was made of wood I knew it would be much stronger than anything my brother would make.  It looked like ordinary snow on the outside, and only I knew of the illegal strength I had hidden.

Also it meant I could hide under a wooden ceiling while my brother had only a wall.  I figured I could crawl in my comfy castle and occasionally lob snowball high over Chad's fort on his head.  He could pelt them down on me all day, but he would never realize I had a secret place I could hide from him.

The next morning Chad started hard packing his snowballs.  I crawled into my secret sanctuary and laughed at what would be my brothers humiliation.  I was too strong to be overcome.  I made my own pile of snowballs while Chad would up for his first missile attack on my fort.

What I didn't realize until later was the truth of my snow fort.  It wasn't secretly strong and mighty.  It wasn't cleverly designed so that it could not be overcome.  It was as Lehi's vision of "a great and spacious building;" (1 Nephi 8:26).  The symbolism behind the building is that it has no foundation, and without a true foundation it was destined to fall.

I have no memory of the snow fort collapsing - burying me in a pile of wood and snow.

*******************************************************
****   SCOTT!  SCOTT! ARE YOU OK?   *******************
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****   SCOTT!  ARE YOU IN THERE? CAN YOU TALK?    ****
*******************************************************

I vaguely remember hearing my brother's muffled voice calling for me as he desperately dug me out of my freezing wooden tomb.  My head throbbed, my ribs ached, and the whole world kept swirling in odd directions.   As he pulled the last of the boards off my head and helped me get fresh air he looked at the wood and asked, "What in the world is all this?"

Nephi explained what his father saw in the vision: "the great and spacious building was the pride of the world; and it fell, and the fall thereof was exceedingly great." (1 Nephi 11:36).  The wooden planks were pegged into the snow, but that wasn't strong enough to the enemy missiles to withstand. I have learned this pattern applies to testimonies too.  You can't cheat to give yourself spirituality.  Sometimes I am tempted to act spiritual - I know the right things to say in Sunday School, and I can put my scriptures out so they look like I've been reading them, but if I am actually spending my time watching movies and playing games my spiritual snow fort is being built with wood and covered over with snow.

Helaman said, " remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation... which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall."  My brother's snow fort was one big pile of snow built on the rock hard surface of the ground.  Each flake of snow is like a prayer, a scripture reading, an act of service.  Together it forms a strong testimony and a barrier against temptation.


As I limped back in the house with my brothers arm around me I explained my clever plan to have a super strong snow fort.  He laughed and apologized for ruining it, but explained that loose boards are more of a hazard than a benefit.  "And besides", he said, "you don't have to cheat to get a good snow fort.  Next time just ask me and I'll help you work on it"  and that's when I realized I had totally missed the super power I could have used.  It wasn't cheating, it was other people.  I lost out on brotherly love and service and replaced it with pride and hypocrisy, and the results left me covered in bruises.

A Smoking Treasure

My father is a used car salesman, and sometimes he gets cars from unusual sources.  When I was 15 a man on the eastern edge of the United States stole a car and had a crazy joy ride.  He ended up getting caught in Cedar City, and rather than deal with the expense of bringing a trashed car across the nation he sold what was left of the car to my father.  It was in sorry shape.

It looked as though the thief had lived in the car for weeks.  It reeked, it was filthy, and it was packed with junk.  Empty fast food wrappers, magazines, paper, socks, and a mountain of junk buried under a layer of cigarette smoke.  My father was worried about whether he could make a profit on the vehicle, and unfortunately there wasn't anything of value in the car.  Until we opened the trunk.

A pack is 20 cigarettes.  A carton is 10 packs.  His trunk has stacks of cartons, all unopened an still in the original cellophane.  We estimated it was over 500 dollars in cigarettes.  We joked that it was worth more than the car.  Because my father bought the car and everything in it, we owned those cigarettes.  Which left us with an obvious and perplexing question:  What do you do with them?

It wasn't really a question of whether cigarettes are good or bad.  The Lord revealed in D&C 89:8 " tobacco is not for the body, neither for the belly, and is not good for man, but is an herb for bruises and all sick cattle, to be used with judgment and skill."  No one thought we should smoke it, but now that we already owned it, what should we do?  Everyone in our family seemed to have a different opinion:

"We should sell it.  It's worth 500 dollars and there's not reason to lose good money.  Whoever buys them would have bought the cigarettes anyway.  We're just making sure the money goes to us instead of to some evil company."

"We should burn it.  Cigarettes are evil, a plague on society, and must be destroyed."

"Burn it?  Do we remember these are cigarettes?  Don't release the stuff in the air, just crush it up and then throw them away."

"But you don't want it on your hands, don't mess with it, don't give anyone a chance to see us with it.  Just toss it perfectly wrapped in the dumpster."

"You might as well toss it where someone could use it.  Even if it isn't something we believe in there are other people who would love to be able to save the money.  It would be like service to them."

"Serving them by giving them cigarettes?  That's not what we believe in."

"We also help build other churches, and we help bar owners recover from fires.  It is a principle of being kind.  We should tell them we are giving them the cigarettes because we thought they could use them"

"They would like that, and if we offered the cigarettes at a discount that would show kindness and prudence.  We could donate the money to a charity, then their addicition would have some good come from it."

"True prudence would be to use the money to help improve the profit from the car.  Since it was not our fault that we aquired cigarettes it is not a sin to use them for money."

"We should sell it. It's worth 500 dollars and there's not reason to lose good money. Whoever buys them would have bought the cigarettes anyway. We're just making sure the money goes to us instead of to some evil company."

"Didn't you just say that?  We keep going in circles."

And so it was.  We held a family council and tried to decide what would be the right thing to do.  I was amazed that I couldn't figure out who was "right" and who was "wrong".  Was it because we didn't know what was right?  Was it a situation where there was no right or wrong?  Were all the solutions equally right?

I still think about that conversation from time to time.  I never did figure out what the correct decision should have been.  I'll tell you what we did, but only because I'm sure you're as terribly curious as I was that day.  The real lesson here isn't about cigarettes or money, it's about what to do when you have several paths and you.

One thing I have decided is that it would have been wrong to not make a decision.  After the family counsel with the children my parents talked about it alone because they were called by God to lead the family.  As early as Deuteronomy 32:46 the Lord said "Set your hearts unto all the words which I testify among you this day, which ye shall command your children to observe to do, all the words of this law." After they had discussed their decision my father acted on a decision.  I do not know whether the final decision was what my father or mother wanted, because that was a personal thing between them.  I assume sometimes my dad gets his way, and sometimes my mom gets her way.

It was my dad that carried out the final decision because he is the head of the home.  It does not mean he always gets what he wants, it means it is his responsibility to make sure the decision is carried out.  In other words, the leader of the home makes sure stuff gets done - and often that may not be what he wanted to have happen.  The Lord said his house was "a house of order" (D&C 88:119), and the father's job is to keep that order in the spirit of the Lord.

My father told us that he and Mom had made a decision.  He hesitated, as if he wasn't sure it was the right choice, but he would go to the mechanics who owned a shop next door and give it to them.  They were avid smokers.  He would tell them he didn't want any reciprocation, and he didn't want to know what happened to them.

At first I thought our treasure was gone, but as I ponder the story I have realized the real treasure was my family having an opportunity to face a very challenging problem, and work together to find a solution.  Everyone in the family felt heard, we all agreed it was a tricky problem.  We liked that our parents were united in coming to a decision.  My father was man enough to execute the final judgement and handle the end of the story.  That pattern has helped me and my wife manage difficult decisions we have faced as the parents of our own family. 

My Worst Companion

On my mission I had a number of challenging companions.  "Challenging" is a code word meaning it's lucky I didn't strangle them.  The companion who believed what was his was his, and what was mine was his.  The companion who refused to wake up in the morning.  The companion who talked more than he breathed.  But none of those were as challenging as Elder Moraes.

Don't get me wrong - missionaries are called of God and their work is sacred, but two 19 year old boys are bound to irritate each other as they learn to serve.  I sometimes felt like I had more than my fair share of "tough to love" companions.  I took it as a compliment that the mission president thought I could handle them.  Except Elder Moraes.  He was the companion I couldn't handle.

Elder Moraes was my second companion in the mission field.  I was in Irani and the small town didn't have a lot of members.  When Elder Moraes met me in Irani and his first sentence was, "Elder Crawford, how many baptisms do we have this week?"

"Uh, None Elder"

"Huh.  Well.  How many baptisms are scheduled for later then?"

"Uh, None Elder"

"Well!  Then how many investigators do we have preparing to set a baptismal date?"

"None Elder Moraes."

"And how many investigators do we have at all?   Any contacts?"

"Not a one.  Good to meet you Elder Moraes I'm Elder Crawford.  How was the trip?"

"Yes.  It's a good thing I'm here.  It's time you learned what it means to be a missionary."

And it went downhill from there.  As I shared the things my companion and I had been doing to find investigators he shared exactly why those methods were not working and offered his opinion on why we thought we should use them.  I was a little taken aback, but interested to see a missionary who knew so much about how to work.

We got to work.  Just between you and me it looked a lot like what I was already doing.  We walked through the town meeting people and inviting them to learn more.  When they accepted our invitation we made appointments and taught them at their home.  There was just one big difference:  No matter how hard I tried I was completely unable to do any of it right.  Elder Moraes insisted I share in the work because it would help me to practice.  The more I practiced the more I did it wrong.  Any spare time walking to appointments was filled with him telling me all the things I had done wrong and how I should have known it was a stupid thing to do.

As the third week approached I was getting tired of it.  It didn't take a miracle for me to realize I was not a bad missionary, Elder Moraes was just being critical.  I had decided to take it all in stride, but constant criticism wears down your soul.  I found myself dreading the walk home at the end of the day.  I tried to explain to my companion how tired I was being ridiculed, but as you can imagine this only gave him more things to pick on.  I tried criticizing him back to show him how it felt, but it only ended in a war of degrading remarks.  Finally with constant prayer I decided to ignore him and serve the Lord without considering his words.

But that is much easier said than done.  

On our way to a zone conference we boarded a bus which was full beyond capacity.  I found myself squished against the back exit door on the very bottom step.  As the bus neared a stop there was a mass of people trying to exit.  The only reasonable solution was to step off and let them exit before getting back on.  What I didn't realize was that since this was the rear exit door on the bus it closed very quickly to avoid people sneaking on the bus without paying.  When the door closed it nearly chopped my foot.  Elder Moraes screamed at me through the door that I needed to get on right then.

Needless to say I ran to the next bus stop and found an irate companion waiting for me.  It was a twenty minute walk to the zone conference from there.  For ten solid minutes my companion told me how incredibly stupid I was and how I couldn't possibly serve the Lord when my brain was absent.  After 10 minutes of this I finally turned to him and said a portuguese phrase that translates to "You are a jerk blockhead." 

The next five minutes were spent telling me that I would never have the spirit when I used insulting words like that.  The five minutes after that were spent informing me that my portuguese wasn't quite right, and I would never baptize people on my mission if I didn't learn the language.  By the time we reached the conference I was not in a happy mood.  The Zone Leader knew me from before and asked why I had a dramatic mood change.  I informed him of what it was like to be Elder Moraes' companion.  He sympathized, and promised me that transfers the next week would result in a new companion.

Transfers came.  Transfers went.  Elder Moraes never changed.  I tried everything.  I shined his shoes and made him food.  I tried changing the subject.  I prayed.  I tried explaining how I felt.  I tried asking him to say positive things as well as negative.  I tried pointing out his faults.  I tried asking him if we could not talk to each other anymore.  I tried telling him I only wanted to discuss doctrine or scriptures.  I tried to justify that I was not as flawed as he seemed to think.  I tried being perfect and doing exactly what he wanted.  I tried doing nothing.  I made a point to thank him for his criticism, but ask him not to point out of my flaws with every breath.  I tried telling him I was praying and unable to talk to him.  I tried the silent treatment.  I tried methods for days and sometimes weeks.  For a second time transfers came.  Transfers went.  Elder Moraes never changed.

I consider myself thick skinned and non-violent, but I was starting to hit my boiling point.  Elder Moraes had served in the Brazilian army, and he could have taken me, but I think I would gotten in at least two solid punches.  I fasted and prayed and kept my cool, but I dreaded every moment of the day.  The worst was after appointments when he would detail everything I said when it was my turn to teach.  One day after a particularly fierce storm of criticism about the way I walked and the way I sat during discussions we approached a house for an appointment.  Although we had scheduled the appointment only the day before I found myself praying that they would not be home.  My prayers were answered.  I felt ashamed.  It was the only time I ever prayed for someone else to lose gospel light for my convenenience.  I promised myself I would work to serve the Lord the best I knew how and I it did not matter if Elder Moraes was my companion for the last 20 months of my mission.

One night I realized there was one tactic I had never tried.  It was the night we were scheduled to teach Ari and Sandra.  They said they had enjoyed the lessons we had been teaching them, but they weren't sure if this was the church they should join.  Elder Moraes began to tell them they needed to have more faith.  I felt the spirit and I decided to say what was in my heart.  I told them that their feelings were not unusual, and that I was glad they were taking what we had to say so seriously.  I promised them that they could know that this was the path God wanted them to take, but it would require work: study, prayer, and honest seeking.  I testified that as they humbly sought the Lord he would guide them.  They thanked me, promised they would continue to seek the Lord, but they asked us not to return until they had made their decision.  The look on Elder Moraes' face told me I was in for it.

On the walk home Elder Moraes began to tell me that they would never be baptized now thanks to what I had said.  He said my little speech made them expect an angel or a personal visitation from the Lord to be baptized.  He told me the negative consequences that would come in their life would be on my head from now on.  Of course I wasn't listening.  I was thinking about the one tactic I had never actually tried.  I broke down and cried.  I thought of the saddest things I could think of.  I remembered the day my cat died, my Aunt dying, and I thought of the past 2.5 months.  For five minutes I forced myself to cry and in sobs I told Elder Moraes how I was trying my best and I knew I would never be the kind of missionary the Lord wanted me to be.  It was the only night we walked home in silence.

This is the part of the story where I cleverly write some plot twist with a surprise.  I'm afraid this paragraph will be a disspointment.  I never did my crying trick again - for one thing I felt angry but not despondant.  For another I refused to allow myself to be beaten down.  It was the last form of rebellion I had.  Elder Moraes never apologized, never thought twice, and after three months I was transferred away.  His last words were "Elder, go and try to do something better with your mission than what you did here."

As I left I felt no sadness for leaving him.  I knew I wouldn't miss him, and I remember pondering on the 7 hour bus ride as to what I should have done.  To this day I have never figured out what the right thing would have been to fix that companionship.  I felt victorious for having survived three months with him.  I finnaly decided maybe - just maybe - not every story has a nice little perfect solution.  Not every time has a cool "This was the magic solution to the problem".

Nearly a year later you can imagine my surprise when this story continued.  I was transferred into a new district on the eastern edge of Santa Catarina.  Elder Coulson was also being transferred into another city in the district.  I didn't find out his companion was Elder Moraes until later.  Within two weeks I was contacted by the District Leader: "Elder Crawford, I heard you were companions with Elder Moraes, is that true?"

"Yes, for three months."

"Really?  Wow.  Ok.  Can you go on splits with him?"
"Sure."

I felt no trepidation.  I had thought about him for a nearly a year.  There was nothing he could say to me that would tear me down, nothing that would hurt, nothing that would surprise me.

What he said to me surprised me.

"Elder Crawford!  It is so good to see you!  It's such a relief to have a really good companion again."

I felt dizzy.  Who was this guy?

"My current companion is so lame, he doesn't know the first thing about how to be a missionary.  I mean seriously!  How do they let guys like that go on a mission?  Didn't his bishop know that he doesn't have any skills with people and he knows nothing about teaching the gospel.  It's been less than a month, but I can tell he won't make it."

Ah yes.  That's more like what I remember.

"Why couldn't they be more like you?  You were by far my best companion.  That's why we were together for three whole months.  I wish it would have been longer, but it rare for me to have a companion for more than a month.  You knew what missionary work was supposed to be about.  I keep trying to help this new Elder but I don't think he'll ever be at your quality.  I only have two months left on my mission.  I'd really like to finish them with some good work, but I can only do so much when my companion is a incapable of working.  It is so nice to be with you again, isn't it?"

So many thoughts.  So many things I could have said.  He was my worst companion, but I was his best?  How awful were his other companions?  This was my chance to tear him down - to zing him the way he hammered me for so many months.  This was my chance to make him change and stop being critical.  But as I opened my mouth I could not tear him down.  All I could say was, "Elder Moraes.  It's good to see you."

Paul said this to Titus: "To speak evil of no man, to be no brawlers, but gentle, shewing all meekness unto all men." (Titus 3:2)  I couldn't be like him.  I couldn't decide to fight mean bullying by being a mean bully.  The spirit told me this was not a battle that God would support me in.

The rest of the bus trip he talked about families he had taught, his plan after his mission, how wonderful I wan, and how awful his current companion was.  I met a missionary I had never known before.  It did not take long to realize that the problems with his current companion were not serious flaws, but more criticism.  I asked him not to discuss his companion, and we talked about ideas for teaching investigators instead.

After transfers were over the district president pulled me aside.
"How are you handling him?  What is the secret?"
"Elder, the secret is to not lose your mission worrying about him.  I never found any way to help him be less critical.  I do not know why he is like that.  But I am glad he did not make me lose my focus, and I will not let him cause friction in our district.  What I do want is to talk to his companion.  Can you arrange us some time alone?"

It was done, and I met a defeated and ruined missionary.  Elder Moraes was his trainer, and he admitted to me that he was on the edge of going home.  He said Elder Moraes talked nonstop about how wonderful I was, and how terrible he was.  He was not particularly interested in meeting me since I was a perfect missionary and I would obviously make him look terrible.  I believe I actually laughed.

As I told him the stories I wrote above he interrupted with things like "Yes!  That is exactly how it is!"  "He said that to me!  He's said that before!"  and "You mean he was exactly like that with you?"  When I told him my most shameful moment of praying that an investigator would be absent he admitted he had been praying for a debilitating illness.  He asked me how I had made it for three months.  I encouraged him to not worry about trying to change him.  I encouraged him to just let his words bounce off him.  I promised him it would not be that way with other companions.

I have always wished I could know what the right thing would have been to do with Elder Moraes.  Looking back I now am glad I went through the experience.  I have met people in my life who needed some major personality overhauls.  Elder Moraes taught me that pointing out someone's flaws is not always the best direction.  It can tear them down more than build them up.  I believe this is one reason the Savior said, "And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?" (Matthew 7:3)  It also may be beyond my power to change them.  I have the power to change myself, and to find ways to improve my own life.  One way I have tried to improve my life is by learning not to let criticism tear me down.

Golden Arches of Salvation

One summer I did an internship in the heart of downtown Houston.  Our home was in College Station, only two hours away.  We decided to try what many families do - I would work in Houston during the week and come home on the weekends for the three summer months.  It was a hard decision, and there were lots of reasons, and lots of prayers to make sure we were doing the right thing.  Still it was a scary time since separating the family like this was very unusual for us.  Thomas was still very young, and Allie was only a baby.  We knew it was a great opportunity, and we were grateful for our blessings, but having Dad gone five days a week was a difficult decision.

That first week Teasha came and made sure I was all set in this massively tall apartment building.  The tiny one room apartment would never have accommodated the whole family, but since it was just me there was plenty of space.  Sadly the time came when she needed to take the kids back to make it home for bedtime.  It was a very heart wrenching separation - the first time in our marriage we would be apart for more than a day.  It was with a very heavy heart that Teasha loaded the kids in our car and headed home.

On the drive she began wondering if she had just done the right thing.  It was true we had prayed, but what if things went badly?  What if I needed support and my wife was not there?  What if she needed help and I was in a distant city?  If it was the right thing to do why didn't the Lord help her to see that it would all work out?  She prayed to ask the Lord for comfort, but found her fears continued to mount.

In desperation she looked up to heaven and prayed, "Father, I'm worried, can you send me hope?"

As they pulled out of downtown onto I-10 she began to look for the signs where the lane she was in would end and she would pull out only to have the lane reform so she could pull onto I-45.  From there it would merge into the "spaghetti bowl" where multiple highways merged and split, catching the 610 into 45 which becomes 10 with a shortcut on 6 to snag the 290, and that's only the first 10 minutes out of downtown Houston.  We had Google mapped it all out before hand, but it was a complicated blur of furious vehicles each streaming to their own routes and merging from one end of a long line of lanes from the left into the far right turning lane within a fouth of a mile.

She found herself praying as she went: "Father, I keep looking for hope, but from this end things seem pretty scary.  I just don't see how this will work.  In fact I can't really see any of thy plan at all.  Art thou even listening to me?  Art thou paying attention to our little family?  Why is it taking so long to get answers?  What is going on up there!?"

While this was going on Thomas was calling from the backseat, "Mom!  I'm hungry, are we close to home yet?  Can we eat something?"  Teasha's response was "Yes, Thomas, we will eat.  There's a McDonalds up ahead.  We'll pull in, but we have to get out of downtown first."   That sort of response will keep a four year old happy for a short while, but words like "downtown" don't mean much at that age.

As Teasha zipped into a small gap of cars to make the next exit Thomas' patience ran out.  He called out, "Mom!  I keep looking for McDonalds, but I don't see any.  In fact I can't really see what's going on.  Are you even listening to me Mom?  Are you paying any attention to me?  Why is it taking so long?  What is going on up there!?"

As Teasha heard Thomas echo her own prayer, as she was looking at the elaborate scheme of roads, and figure 8's that she come up on, the spirit came and she knew exactly how to answer her son.  She was giving him an inspired message sent from God to her. 

She said, "Thomas, I am in the drivers seat, you can't see all of the twists and turns it takes to make it home, but I can, and I will lead you there.  You can't see anything from that back seat, but if you could see things from where I am sitting, you wouldn't worry so much, I am going to take care of you and lead you where you need to be, just have faith as you sit back there, and you will understand everything that I am doing one day, it will all be okay, I am here to help you as your parent, so trust me, and we will get where we are going."

Many times I have felt to echo the words of David, "Awake, why sleepest thou, O Lord? arise, cast us not off for ever.  Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and forgettest our affliction and our oppression?" (Psalms 44:23-24).  I feel alone and forgotten.  Spiritually starving I wonder whether God has a plan, or if my life is destined to slide into waste.  When I pray the Lord seems to only say, "Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord." (Psalms 27:14).  Wait?  Seriously?  How long?

Because Thomas was only four years old he asked his mom several times, "Mom, are we getting there?"  And because Teasha loves him she answered every time, "Yes, my son, be patient.  I see it up ahead."  "But Mom!  I don't see it!"  "That's ok, Thomas, I can."

Because I am sometimes a spiritual child I ask Heavenly Father, "Am I getting there?  I don't see it".  Even David sometimes needed a few reassurances.  In 1 Samuel 23:1-4 David needs to battle against the Philistines.  He's worried so he asks the Lord if he should go.  The Lord tells him to go.  David is getting ready, but he's still a little worried.  He asks the Lord again.  With infinite patience and love the Lord tells him again "go down to Keilah; for I will deliver the Philistines into thine hand."  I have found God is willing to comfort me and reassure me as long as I am willing to put my trust in him when I cannot see the whole picture.

That summer was difficult, I was only home on the weekends.  But it passed, and I gained valuable work experience that I used in my schooling, and it helped me plan my career path.  Teasha had wonderful friends that helped her.   Afterwards we both realized how much we needed each other.  Our marriage and family situation is better because we turned to the Lord and waited patiently on him.

Those who trust in the Lord will find out - as Thomas did - that the van always finds it's way along the narrow road to the "golden arches of salvation".  A four year's old joy had no bound as he ordered chicken nuggets and fries.  We are promised eternal joy if we can learn to endure to the end waiting patiently through trials as the Lord directs our lives.