Go Forth - Ether 2-3

There's so much to write about. We're talking about the Jadeites and their journey to the promised land. 

They carried fish, honey bees, and seeds with them. Honestly—what a healthy, thoughtful way to travel. They were being sustained physically while the Lord was guiding them spiritually.

God spoke to the brother of Jared from a cloud and told them to “go forth.” That phrase stuck with me.

Have I ever been told to “go forth”?

I believe I have.

Marrying Clyde was one of the simplest and most faith-filled decisions I’ve ever made. The Lord made it clear to me that he was the right choice. Not flashy—just clear. And He was right. Clyde is good, and he has stayed good. Over the years, we’ve continued to feel guided. Even now, when life feels a little unusual and we’re serving in different ways—me in the temple, him in the city—I still see the Lord’s wisdom in it. That is His hand.

We’ve been blessed. This land has been good to us.

And yet, I look around right now—poor snowpack, little rain, heat coming too early—and I wonder. What does this summer look like? Water restrictions seem certain. Is this the Lord’s hand too? I think it is, but not in a way that brings panic. When I remember what prophets have taught, I feel reined in. Peace returns. The Lord knows His children. When life gets too easy, we drift. And here we are again—leaning in, praying more, needing Him.

Back to the barges.

The Lord gave direction—very specific direction. Tight like a dish. Sealed. Able to be tossed and not destroyed. But He didn’t solve everything for them.

Light was still a problem.

So the brother of Jared went to work. He moltened stones. I can’t even imagine that process without help from the Lord. I feel like he must have seen it in his mind first—just like I have at times. Once, when I needed to make a poultice, I could see exactly what to do. More recently, when I was wrestling with a piece of music that was beyond me, the thought came clearly: “write it.” That worked. It came together in two days.

The Lord guides—but we must have the faith to ask, and then act.

His prayer in chapter 3 is beautiful to me. Before he even asks for light, he talks about his weakness, asks for forgiveness, and recounts all the ways the Lord has already helped them. Do I do that enough? Probably not. Maybe that kind of remembering is part of what opens our eyes.

Because his eyes were opened.

And yes—he did fall down in fear.

But what followed wasn’t distance—it was closeness. The Lord showed Himself. Taught him. Stayed with him. Can you even imagine that kind of experience? I don’t think I would ever want it to end.

And then—to be told not to share it. That feels almost as hard as the experience itself would be amazing. But he wrote it, sealed it up, and because of that, we have it now.

One small detail I noticed this time—verse 24. Their language had been confounded back at the Tower of Babel. Of course interpreters would be needed. Of course the Lord was already preparing for a future we now live in.

Nothing is accidental.

So I come back to this question:

Is my life really that different from those who experienced the Lord’s hand so powerfully?

Gratefully, I think the answer is no.

Maybe the miracles just look quieter.

But they are there.