Compelled

 This morning I began reading the Book of Mormon again—this time more slowly, hoping to sit with the words and let them ask something of me.

In 1 Nephi 1:11–12, Lehi is given a book to read. I found myself wondering—what book was it?

It couldn’t have been the Book of Mormon as we know it. Perhaps it was something like the scriptures they already had. Whatever it was, it filled him with the Spirit of the Lord.

That led me to a quieter question:
Does coming unto Christ remove suffering—or change how we experience it?

Jerusalem wasn’t peaceful then, and the world isn’t peaceful now. Yet the invitation remains the same: Come unto Him.

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In verse 16, Nephi explains that he is not writing everything his father recorded, but an abridgment. We know what happened to those earlier writings—lost through Martin Harris.

And that made one word stand out to me: compel. Nephi felt compelled to include some of his Father’s experience. 

Have I ever felt compelled?

Yes.

I felt compelled to gather and write my dad’s mission journal—to bring his words into one place.

I felt compelled to leave the Volunteer Care Clinic. It was a difficult decision, but it felt like our time there was complete. Twelve years is a long mission and there were other things to do that were also compelling. The Clinic has struggled, but it is providing valuable service to our community.

I feel a strong urgency—maybe even a compulsion—to focus on the music the Lord has placed in my life. There are unfinished projects that may never be completed, and yet the pull is still there. The Easter song I’m working on feels especially important. Its idea is not mine. I don’t take credit for it as it was a challenge from Clyde, but I feel responsible to take it to completion.

I feel compelled to help our new music from the Church become familiar, something we turn to naturally.

I feel compelled to help our youth—especially those leading music in sacrament meeting—feel confident and capable. It’s slow work, but I see small progress.

I feel compelled to gather my family, even if that gathering happens more often in prayer than in person.

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So yes—I know what it feels like to be compelled.

My challenge is not recognizing it.

My challenge is balancing it.

Because even in good things, I sometimes fall short.