How much truth?

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Afternoon Session of the April 1983 Conference.
There was someone I really loved, when I was younger. I wanted to help this person. I wanted to save this person. But he wasn't ready to change himself, and I wasn't the person to change him. It broke my heart. I talked to my brother about it.

"Someday he won't matter so much to you," my brother said.

"But I don't WANT him not to matter so much to me!" I said.

My brother, bless him, told me it used to be the same with him and basketball. "I asked if there would be basketball in heaven," he said, "and my teacher told me, 'Well, there might be, but if not, it will be fine, because you won't care about it.' And I said, 'But I don't WANT to not care about it!'"

"But," my brother went on, "it's funny, because he was right. Now I really just don't care about it, and I don't mind not caring, because I…don't care!"

I was thinking this week, as we were reading about the miracle of the loaves and the fishes, and Jesus' "Bread of Life" sermon, that "being made whole" is a big commitment. Usually I think about the miracle itself. The healed limbs. Eating the miraculous bread and "being filled." Walking on the water. But none of those things really made people "whole"—not permanently, anyway. They got hungry again, and hurt again, and scared again.

And yet, if we accept the doctrine of the Bread of Life—and decide to really take Jesus' teachings into ourselves—we have to accept ALL of Him. ALL the truth he brings—ALL the laws—ALL that He is going to require of us. Including changes in the way we do things. And changes in the way we see things. And even changes in what we value and care about. He will make us whole—but it's his whole. "Whole" the way He knows we are meant to be whole—not the "whole" we envisioned for ourselves back when we were still incomplete.

And we have to learn to accept that, and be happy about it. I have to decide: How much truth do I really want to receive?
What if it challenges what I'm comfortable with?
What if it challenges what I want to think and care about?

Boyd K Packer, speaking in the October 1983 Conference, said:
Some who do not understand the doctrinal part do not readily see the relationship between obedience and agency. And they miss one vital connection and see obedience only as restraint. They then resist the very thing that will give them true freedom. There is no true freedom without responsibility, and there is no enduring freedom without a knowledge of the truth.… 
There is an obedience that comes from a knowledge of the truth that transcends any external form of control. We are not obedient because we are blind, we are obedient because we can see.… 
One day you must set [your children] free. When that day comes, how free will they be, and how safe? It will depend on how much truth they have received.
As I've been trying to prepare for General Conference next week (the current one), I keep thinking about this question. Am I ready for the truth the prophets are going to present to me? How much am I ready to receive? All of it?

I think I do want all of it. I want to learn all the truth. I want to be made truly whole. But I'm going to have be willing to care about what God cares about (and give up the rest) if that's my goal.

6 comments

  1. I am approaching this General Conference with significant trepidation. I am praying sincerely to be able to hear/discern the truth and obey wholeheartedly. I'm trying not to fear, but there are little frissons of fear that hit me once in a while . . . "Can I do this? Will a new announcement send me reeling again? Will I be lost?" I've been immersing myself in testimonies of those who stand solid in following the Lord and his prophets no matter what.

    I've been reviewing, too, my personal experiences--how every time I do trust, it has turned out well.

    But I have butterflies in my stomach . . . I don't feel strong enough to keep up.

    So, praying, studying, praying, pondering, praying . . .

    I wish you joy! And I look forward to continuing to read of your personal growth because it is a blessing to me.

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    1. Yes. Me too! Your prayers sound similar to mine, and I do keep feeling little bits of fear too! I don't want to draw back--I want to obey--but change is hard! I feel like you are doing all the right things, and it will pay off. :)

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  2. What if playing your cello is something that isn't really important . . . ? I struggle so much with understanding what to hang on to and what to let go and what the Lord would have me do.

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    1. Oh yeah. Same here. Which things are you naturally drawn to because you're SUPPOSED to do them, and which are things you're supposed to sacrifice for a greater good?

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  3. It’s not exactly the same thing, but the phrase “Saviors on Mount Zion” has been in my head a lot lately. I recently read this:

    Elder Thomasson:
    If we desire exaltation we must answer two questions: How happy do you want to be, and how much are you willing to give? For if we truly desire the work and glory that can only come through bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of other spirits, we must be willing to suffer with them and for them, living the gospel of unselfishness.

    As I read that, I thought about my kids specifically — and the unselfish “suffering with them” that accompanies raising them. And your post made me think of it all again -/ how much do I want the things I say I want? And do I want th enough to give upsone of the things that matter temporarily to me, etc. To trust that when I get where I’m headed, I will have the things I most want and not love the things that don’t matter, etc.

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    1. Yes! it really is the same sort of thing--how much we are willing to give. It's one of things where your "true desires" can be mixed, I think.

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