What We Forfeit

One word stopped me as I finished President Oaks' conference message, The Need for a Church.

 

Forfeit.

 

It's an interesting choice of words. A person doesn't accidentally forfeit something. To forfeit is to give it up—to walk away from something that could have been yours.

 

President Oaks wasn't talking about simply being good. He was talking about everything we give up when we step away from the restored gospel and the covenants that lead us back to God.

 

As I've begun committing the blessings of the temple endowment to memory, I've been surprised at how little attention I've given them in the past. Those promised blessings aren't just beautiful words. They describe the life Heavenly Father wants for His children—greater power, greater peace, greater capacity to become like Him, and the promise of eternal increase. Why would anyone willingly forfeit that?

 

President Oaks also reminds us that the Church isn't simply a place to attend. It is where we grow.

 

We receive callings that stretch us. We work beside people we might never have chosen. We learn patience, forgiveness, compassion, and humility. Sometimes we are taught by those around us. Sometimes we're tested by them. Usually it's both.

 

I smiled when I thought about my mother. She spent countless hours practicing the organ before church. Her goal wasn't to impress anyone. It was to make sure she never distracted from worship. That standard of service became part of who I am.

 

Sometimes that same desire for excellence gets in my way. I see things I want to fix. Staying in my own lane continues to be one of the Lord's lessons for me. Thankfully, He is patient, because He's still teaching me.

 

I also thought of a family reunion years ago. One of my uncle's families had been assigned to prepare a meal for everyone. Unfortunately, they ran out of food long before they ran out of hungry relatives.

 

Without hesitation, my mother and aunt who had both had plenty of experience feeding the hungry, gathered food from their trailers and created a wonderful meal for everyone who had been missed.

 

Was that a matter of salvation? Of course not.

 

But it illustrated something President Oaks teaches. Years of serving in wards, preparing dinners for hundreds, accepting assignments, and learning to think of others had quietly prepared them for that moment. They had developed skills because of life in the Church.

 

Then I opened Mosiah 4. This fit so beautifully with Pres. Oaks' talk.

 

King Benjamin describes people who have experienced a mighty change of heart. As I read, I realized I know exactly what he means.

 

I remember discovering that there really was a way back after I had wandered. I could be forgiven. I could once again enjoy full fellowship in the Church. That knowledge filled me with joy I had never known before. I didn't fall to the ground as King Benjamin's people did, but I certainly fell to my knees in gratitude.

 

I also remember bearing my testimony the Sunday before the day I received my temple endowment. The Spirit rested on me in a way I had never experienced before. It was unmistakable. I have never doubted it. That moment is my “go to” whenever I feel weak.

 

King Benjamin speaks of retaining a remission of sins, continuing in humility, caring for the poor, and remembering that we are all beggars before God.

 

Beggars? This become deeply personal to me.

 

I have begged Heavenly Father to free me from old images, old thoughts, and old habits that lingered long after I chose a different life. Forgiveness came quickly. Cleansing my mind has been a process that has taken years. Even now, I'm careful about what I allow into my heart through entertainment and media.

 

Yet through it all, the joy has been real.

 

Everything I have is because of God's goodness. Nothing I possess is really mine. It all belongs to Him.

 

King Benjamin wisely teaches that we should impart of our substance "in wisdom and order." As I reread a note I had written in the margin two years ago, I was taken right back to that season of life. We were serving in our mission, and I wrote that I finally had the time and the means to help others, but my energy seemed to be slipping away. I had concluded, "The spirit is willing, but the body is weak."

 

There is an irony in growing older. We spend much of our younger years wishing we had more time to serve. Then, just when time finally becomes available, our bodies begin placing limits on what we can do. King Benjamin's counsel to act "in wisdom and order" has become increasingly meaningful to me. The Lord doesn't ask for more than we are able to give. He asks for a willing heart.

 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Mosiah 4 is the perfect companion to President Oaks' message.

 

The Church isn't merely an organization. It is the Lord's school for disciples. It is where covenants are made, where the Holy Ghost changes hearts, where we learn to serve, where we discover joy, and where we become more like Jesus Christ.

 

When people choose to walk away, they aren't simply leaving meetings on Sunday.

 

They are forfeiting blessings that cannot be found anywhere else