The Lord Loves Effort

 

The Lord gives commandments we are expected to keep. But sometimes, like finding an eternal companion, or bearing children, those commandments go unmet—not because of rebellion, but because the opportunity simply hasn’t come. The desire is there; the timing just isn’t.

In my study today, John Bytheway brought two verses together that helped me understand this better.

Then in Doctrine and Covenants 124:49, the Lord explains, “When I give a commandment … and [my children] go with all their might … and their enemies come upon them and hinder them … it behooveth me to require that work no more … but to accept of their offerings.”

In 2 Nephi 5:16, Nephi says, “I, Nephi, did build a temple; and I did construct it after the manner of the temple of Solomon save it were not built of so many precious things; for they were not to be found upon the land.” He wanted to build something beautiful, just like Solomon’s temple, but he didn’t have the same materials. Still, he did what he could with what he had.

Isn’t that beautiful? The Lord accepts our offerings when we do all we can, even if we can’t fully carry something out. He sees our hearts.

I’m so grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who knows the difference between unwillingness and impossibility—and who blesses the desires of our hearts, even when we’re still waiting for the chance to act on them.

 

Seek Learning by Faith

3 Nephi 18:7 – “And if ye do always remember me ye shall have my Spirit to be with you.”

Do I want to have the Spirit with me? Of course I do. But this verse reminds me that it’s not automatic. It’s tied to remembering my Savior.

So, what does it really mean to “remember” Him? For me, it means thinking about the tremendous price He paid for my ransom, and the incredible love behind that sacrifice. It also means trying to live the way He did.

How do I show that I remember Him?

1. By partaking of the sacrament with intent.
2. By doing what He did while He was on the earth.
3. By studying His life so I know what those things are.
4. By reading the scriptures—it’s the most natural way to remember Him.
5. And by praying for His Spirit to be with me.

Then verse 20 adds another layer:
3 Nephi 18:20 – “And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you.”

It makes perfect sense that part of my prayers should be to have the Spirit with me. Years ago, I wrote a note in my scriptures: Seek learning by faith. I still love that thought.

Praying to be protected from Satan’s lies won’t mean much if I don’t first seek to learn the truths of the gospel. Learning by faith becomes the foundation that builds real protection. I have to understand Heavenly Father’s plan and my role in it to have enough faith to withstand the adversary’s fiery darts.

When I remember the Savior, study His words, and try to live as He did, I not only invite His Spirit—I also strengthen my faith to recognize and resist the lies around me.

 

3 Nephi 18:22

“And behold, ye shall meet together oft; and ye shall not forbid any man from coming unto you when ye shall meet together, but suffer them that they may come unto you and forbid them not.”

This verse reminds me of a painful lesson I learned as a teenager. I’ve since repented of the offense, but the memory remains vivid. During Stake Conference, my friends and I were sitting together when a transient man—invited by someone who truly understood discipleship—came and sat in the overflow area. His appearance was rough and unfamiliar to me, and instead of showing kindness, my friends and I kept glancing back at him, mocking quietly. I had never seen anyone like him before, and sadly, I became the greater spectacle. That day, an opportunity to let my “light” shine was lost.

That experience deeply shaped my behavior in future meetings. Since then, I’ve often chosen to sit near the front of the chapel, where there are fewer distractions. Yet even that has its tradeoffs—I may miss seeing someone who could use a friendly smile or a warm welcome.

Now, whenever someone comes to church dressed differently—perhaps in worn clothes or with an unkempt beard—I remember that moment from my youth. I silently pray for forgiveness and express gratitude for the lesson it taught me. I was young, impressionable, and easily swayed by peers. I’ve spent a lifetime repenting for that small but telling act of unkindness and continue to work on not judging others.

The Lord knows the hearts of His children, and He rejoices when we draw near to Him—“Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you” (D&C 88:63; James 4:8).

Imagine it!

3 Nephi 17:24
“And as they looked to behold they cast their eyes towards heaven, and they saw the heavens open, and they saw angels descending out of heaven as it were in the midst of fire; and they came down and encircled those little ones about, and they were encircled about with fire; and the angels did minister unto them.”

In my notebook I once wrote, “Why would Jesus, who knows the beginning from the end, weep?”
I believe it is because He knew what the future held for these people — these small children. He knew that in just four generations, they would forget and trample upon the truths they had been taught as well as the experience they just had. They would no longer remember the miraculous moment when angels surrounded their little ones.

As a parent and grandparent, this thought is heartbreaking. It’s one thing to experience joy in the moment, but to know that hearts will one day turn away—how devastating that must be! That, I think, is one reason for His tears.

The other may be pure, overwhelming joy—the tender, sacred sight of children encircled by angels. Imagine it!

3 Nephi 16

As I was reading this chapter, I found myself a little concerned about the Lord’s people. Aren’t we all His people—children of God, the Eternal Father? At first glance, the scriptures can sound as if there are favorites: one group being “His people,” and another that is not. Wait—what?

Then I remembered that those who are called “His people” are those who choose to follow the Savior, Jesus Christ, and live their lives with a desire to return to Him. Those who are not “His” have made a different choice. They weren’t born into that status—it’s a matter of agency.

Still, it can feel confusing. What about people born in nations where the gospel of Jesus Christ isn’t taught? Where is the fairness in that? As I stewed over this for a bit, I remembered: this life is a test—to see if we will choose good, and to gain the experience of mortality. The Millennium will provide time and opportunity for all of God’s children to learn, accept, and progress.

Our responsibility now is to make the most of this life, doing as much good as we can within the circumstances of our birth. Many people have made a profound mark for good in the world—Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa, and countless others. I could list many examples, but that’s not the purpose of this post.

When I step back and remember the eternal perspective, my heart settles. Yes—we are all children of our Heavenly Father. The gift of life is given to everyone, and it’s our individual choice what we do with that gift.

 

The Fall of the House

3 Nephi 14:27

“And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”

 

I first wrote about this verse back in October 2004, wrestling with what it meant that “the fall” was great.

If those who stray will still have a chance to accept the Savior after this life, why such final language? I remember thinking, Maybe I misunderstand—but I don’t think so. It was one of those questions I had to place gently on a mental shelf, trusting that someday I’d understand and that, as I often remind myself, “it will all work out.”

 

By December 2021, I revisited that question with a little more light. I was nearly finished reading The Second Coming of the Lord by Gerald Lund, and his words helped me see things differently.
This life truly is our time to prepare to meet God, but the Millennium—those thousand years of peace—will continue that refining process. Those who love the Lord will remain faithful without the pull of worldly distractions. The final test, however, will come after the Millennium, when Satan is loosed one last time.

 

That thought stopped me cold.
After a thousand years of peace and harmony, how could anyone choose otherwise? And yet, scripture tells us that many will. It will be the greatest and most terrible war ever fought—not with swords or bombs, but between good and evil, between loyalty and rebellion. My imagination ran wild that night, but my conclusion was simple: when that fall comes, it truly will be great.

 

Now, here I am in October 2025.
Last night, we watched a movie that was deeply unsettling—one of those “what if” stories about the moments before World War III. As the screen faded to black, I felt a familiar chill at the idea of a world destroyed by its own power. But then came peace—the kind that only faith can bring.

 

Because I know how the story ends.
Yes, there will be a great and dreadful day of the Lord. The earth will burn and shake, but then it will receive its paradisiacal glory. I looked up that word again—paradisiacal means “ideal, idyllic, heavenly.” That’s what the Lord has promised.

 

President Nelson has been so clear in his counsel to prepare for that day—and to prepare now. His list is simple but soul-deep:

• Attend the temple regularly and with purpose
• Pray and study the scriptures individually and as families
• Gather Israel on both sides of the veil
• Keep the commandments
• Live the law of the gospel—be decent, Christlike people
• Sacrifice our time and talents in the service of God

 

These aren’t emergency measures—they’re daily habits of discipleship.
And when the winds blow and the floods come, those are the things that will keep our spiritual houses standing.

 

 

A Home Transformed by Priesthood

No man who holds the Holy Priesthood should treat his wife disrespectfully. No man who holds that priesthood should fail to ask a blessing on his food or kneel with his wife and children to seek God’s guidance. A home is transformed when a man both holds and honors the priesthood.

Compulsion builds resentment. It conveys mistrust and makes people feel incompetent.

These verses in Doctrine and Covenants 121 spoke to me deeply during my study this morning.

They stood out because of a recent ministering moment with one of my sisters. I don’t like hearing other people’s troubles—it’s a burden that isn’t mine to carry. Yet we have a neighbor and ward member who has been spreading hurtful things about his wife. They’re in the midst of a divorce, and though I know both of them, I also know there are rarely completely innocent parties when a marriage breaks apart.

I’m not in a position to judge—and I don’t. But I find myself wondering: how does a priesthood holder who once honored his covenants get to this point? Is it a slow, slippery slope? Years of quiet resentment over choices made long ago? A need to justify his behavior? Or perhaps she, too, feels wounded—hurt by self-righteousness or the misuse of priesthood authority?

Who can say what’s truly causing the divide? All I know is that a covenant marriage is falling apart—and it’s heartbreaking.

Why can’t we see that when we reach this stage of life—children raised, responsibilities lighter—there’s so much joy to be found? This season is the golden ticket! To spend it searching elsewhere for happiness is a grave mistake.

The peace we crave doesn’t come from escaping covenants but from keeping them. When we honor our promises—to God and to each other—we discover the joy we were searching for all along.