Things Learned Whilst Adventuring in the Holy Land Spring/Summer 2010.  In no particular order.  Continually updated.

1.       I know absolutely little about the scriptures.  But I do know something, and to know anything is a great treasure (OT).

2.       I don’t believe in a God that “lies in wait” for a chance to be punitive.  He won’t “get us” by small technicalities.  We’re not instantly on His ‘bad list’ the moment we make a mistake when our lives have been spent wearing ourselves out in His service.  He cares about our long-term character than our short-term failings.  His mercy is more deep than we can fully understand.  Why not try to be more like Him in that way?

3.       Don’t be too quick to assume understanding.  You can always find something more to take from an idea or scripture, especially if you try to understand it from someone else’s perspective (JC).

4.       It is better to have friends, than to have things.  Even things like GPS-enabled digital cameras while in Egypt (Egypt).

5.       Forgive, even when the other side is ‘undeserving’.  There are few things I hate worse than genuine injustice, but in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, each side’s unwillingness to forgive and forget the willful maliciousness of the other has created a far greater tragedy than the sum of those injustices.

6.       Self respect is doing something and genuinly not caring what others think.  In fact, almost everyone I know who does this also tend to have my respect, even—and sometimes especially—when what they’re doing is rather silly (BW/D)

7.       Whenever you say ‘yes’ to something, you are saying ‘no’ to many other things.  Choose what is most important to you. 

8.       The BYU-Jerusalem program helped me attach principles to places.

9.       A testimony is gained—or strengthened—in the bearing of it (Caeseria Philipi)

10.    Your soul is worth… the price Christ is willing to pay for it (JK, Gethsemane).

11.    The Jews didn’t completely reject Jesus, whole crowded populations accepted Him as the Messiah.  It was the aristocracy of the Jews that rejected Him (C).

12.    To wax cold means not moving, hard hearted, no light (of Christ) to make you soft and malleable (Dominus Flevit).

13.    Capitalize on timeliness.

14.    Be humble enough to sometimes just take someone else’s advice (MA/E).

15.    Witholding information is one of the quickest ways to be excluded from a group (R).

16.    Anything can be a once in a lifetime opportunity (JY).

17.    The act of your choosing it makes it the “place you need to be” (JY).

18.    Knowledge is not remembrance.

19.    The wise learn from the mistakes of others, but sometimes you lose more wisdom by spending too much time trying to collect it.  Sometimes you have to go forward the best you are and learn by making mistakes (SJ).

20.    Hold to the good (SJ).

21.    Trust in God, and have confidence in whom you have trusted (Elah).

22.    Impetuous words, spoken with confidence, often has a much greater effect than calculated words spoken unconcernedly (JB, LW, NO).

23.    The way I regard my imperfect leaders, is a great indicator of my spiritual maturity (L).

24.    Being liked doesn’t have so much to do with what you do, as it does with what you do for others (JB).

25.    Lying makes you feel like trash and is never worth it (JB).

26.    It is worth it to toil through the night to make someone else’s day (Nain).

27.    The best gifts are often bought the most easily: by simple thoughtfulness.

28.    For me, the single most attractive characteristic in a spiritually mature, intelligent woman is thoughtfulness.

29.    Don’t be overly concerned about the logicality of everything in life.  Everything in life isn’t meant to be calculated.  Don’t distrust feelings.  Believe in the magic (LW).

30.    Places matter, but they don’t matter.  They matter because they are an excuse to reflect on events or principles to an extent that we otherwise probably wouldn’t, but places really don’t matter because anyone can have the spiritual experiences anywhere they are… if they focus on those events and principles (Jerusalem).

31.    Don’t waste too much energy presenting yourself as something you are not.  That energy is much better spent being the best you can be.
 
32.    Reading is the difference, in man and in nations, between ascendancy and stagnation (Yad)

33.    Labeling others as having nothing but malicious intent is the first step to Nazism (Yad).

34.    Making fun of something you don’t understand, or only understand from your point of view, is the height of intolerance (Yad).

35.    Education is no guarantee of wisdom (Yad).

36.    Don’t ignore genuine tragedies, but don’t let them consume your whole world (Yad).

37.    God makes exceptions, even to the most important rules (Ruth).

38.    Everyone naturally tends to view the world to the exclusion of others’ points of view (B.U.)

39.    Stand up for what you believe, but beware the soapbox.  Ask yourself: am I driving a wedge? Wanting to be known that I believe this way? Trying to build myself up by putting others down?

40.    Living in paralyzing shame of one’s past—even if genuinely dispiteful—can be much worse than whatever happened in that past (Yad).

41.    Status quo is just another way of saying “I’m too stubborn to work things out” (C.H.S.)

42.    I gained a renewed appreciation for centralized spiritual authority and guidance.
44.   [IANBUBEIPT]  45.   [IWAMTBPA] 46.   [GKMH]

 Today I had my last test in my Old Testament Class here at BYU-J. At the beginning of the class, I'll admit: I was really worried—though I had read the entire Old Testament before, it still seemed so... distant, archaic, and downright not applicable to me. I thought it was boring. The New Testament and Restoration scripture are the places to go to really feel the love of God and be inspired... But I really wanted to get the most out of this class, so I tried to keep an open mind while going through everything again. Now, I have to say that I'm really surprised: reading in the Old Testament has been not nearly as hard as I thought it would be. Most of it I have thoroughly enjoyed. Being where a lot of it took place has really made it come alive (the field trips were amazing in this regard!). And now that I, for the first time, have paid some real time to know the context better, I think there is actually only a few things that are completely inapplicable. Especially after being reminded of the lessons that one author gleans from the Old Testament in The Peacegiver, I am convinced that we can find life-changing insights in this glorious and inspired book of scripture. And I want to share one that I feel is extremely applicable today.

So, here it goes: Deuteronomy 15. Moses is teaching about the “year of release,” a Jewish tradition that basically means that all debts that people owe us are to be forgiven in full:

“At the end of every seven years thou shalt make a release. And this is the manner of the release: Every creditor that lendeth ought unto his neighbour shall release it; he shall not exact it of his neighbour, or of his brother; because it is called the Lord’s release” (Deut. 15:1-2). When I read it, the first thing I thought was “but wait, just that easy? A clean slate for all debts? How is that fair? Won't people take advantage of that?” And then I read on:

“If there be among you a poor man of one of thy brethren within any of thy gates in thy land which the Lord thy God giveth thee, thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut thine hand from thy poor brother:

But thou shalt open thine hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him sufficient for his need, in that which he wanteth” (Deut. 15:7-8, emphasis added).

Ok..., I guess that's fine... I'm for giving to the poor... but what is this word “wide”--and what exactly is God referring to when He commands me not to harden my heart? But then comes the kicker:

“Beware that there be not a thought in thy wicked heart, saying, The seventh year, the year of release, is at hand; and thine eye be evil against thy poor brother, and thou givest him nought; and he cry unto the Lord against thee, and it be sin unto thee.

Thou shalt surely give him, and thine heart shall not be grieved when thou givest unto him: because that for this thing the Lord thy God shall bless thee in all thy works, and in all that thou puttest thine hand unto” (Deut. 15:9-10).

Doh! Why does God always do that? I can give... but why does he have to say that I can't have any suspicious thoughts in my heart? What if he is actually asking because he knows the “year of release” is coming up soon? Aren't I justified in turning down such evil intent? [(really: that is not a rhetorical question: any thoughts?)] But the verse that just stands out at me is verse 10 where it says “and thine heart shall not be grieved when thou givest.” I've thought a lot about the application of that phrase... and I keep coming back to one thing: lending money. On my mission, I was notorious for keeping track of every last peso someone owed me. In my mind, that was the only “fair” thing to do—I was perfectly justified. It was my money, after all. In fact, I thought, it was all their fault (really: what kind of a jerk would come up to you, ask for money with that pleading voice and, those it-would-mean-everything-to-me eyes, promise to pay you back... and then act later as if it it didn't mean enough to warrant a second thought?!). A simple board of post-it notes was merely a tactful way of saying that I expected people to keep their word. I mean, a true disciple of God would never have to be reminded that he owed someone money—they should think to pay it back the first change they get.

But a few things made me consider that this was perhaps one of the things that I needed to ask myself the apostle's question. The first thing was one of my companions. He was really... mmm, let's go with “chill” (my opinion of him at the time was that he should not have been given the position of leadership that he had). But he had something that I did not have: people liked him—not just fellow missionaries, but the members, people we met, and all of our investigators. And... I resented it. Why couldn't anyone else see through his facade and notice his glaring flaws? But my policy of getting along with my companions at the time was to keep things cordial and not bring up... unpleasant details. But as our companionship matured, I not only decided that comparing his weaknesses to my strengths was not only unfair but stupid. I had a golden opportunity to observe and learn from one of his greatest strengths—and my most frustrating weakness. My entire life I longed to be someone that everyone liked. I was tired of only being able to feel comfortable with a select few groups that were just like me. That companion taught me a lot of things, and one thing is directly relevant to what I believe Deuteronomy 15 is trying to put into each of our hearts. One day as we were on our way to our weekly leadership meeting (which at the time was early enough in the day to be far away from lunch, but late enough to be noticeably hungry), he said we were stopping by a pastry shop. Not wanting to be difficult by bringing up the applicability of certain lesser rules, I just went along with it. I busied myself choosing a few new baked goods I had never tried, and I assumed my companion got what he always got, and we left. When we got to the meeting, though, he pulled out a bag that was much bigger than his usual. And... he shared it with everyone. One companionship in particular was extremely grateful as they had skipped breakfast. When one of our appointments fell through later in the day, I asked him about it. Truth be told, I began in an accusatory manner: I thought he used leadership money to buy it. But he hadn't. He used his personal money—and he wasn't one of the rich missionaries, either. Perceiving that I was still a little flustered, he took pity on me and decided—instead of rubbing my mistake into my face—to teach me a lesson I have never forgotten, and always tried to apply.

He put his arm around me and said (to the best of my memory), “Elder Christensen, let me tell you a story about something my trainer taught me: My first month in the country, my trainer had been promising me that we would go to the best ice cream place in the zone and introduce me to what he claimed to be the best flavors in the country. The transfer was almost over, and we still hadn't gone. One day, though, our schedule was such that we were close enough to the shop that we stopped and got two entire kilos (over 4 pounds). The only problem—that is, besides using the last of my expendable money—was that we had another appointment to get to, and it was lunch. We decided to stop by our apartment which was close to the lunch appointment and put in our freezer for later that day. The rest of the day didn't give the opportunity to go back, however, until that night. I was dying. I was only looking forward to one thing: that ice cream. The moment we got home, though, we got a call from another missionary apartment and my companion had to go to their apartment. Without telling me, he packed the ice cream in his bag, and the first thing he did when we got to the other apartment was give it to the other missionaries! Of course we all shared it, but I really resented having to share it among six instead of relishing my own. My companion, however, saw things completely differently. He tried to talk me out of my resentment by pointing out how happy it made the other elders, how one of the missionaries in particular never bought treats like ice cream, and how we had made four good friends because of it.”

There is a little more to that story, but I've never forgotten what I learned from his relating that story. I think it gets at what President Kimball was teaching in his admonition to 'love people, not things.' What if we lived life such that we only cared about things like money in terms of its use in helping other people? Of course we should always keep in mind our primary financial responsibilities (which, I think, include only the basics such as food, housing, and clothing—not luxuries that we only think are needs), but really, I think we can “afford” to use money to go out of our way to help people a lot more than we tend to. Again, perhaps this is being too idealistic—of course if we get to be known to being overly giving, we will be taken advantage of and come to financial problems of our own, right? Well, though this makes perfect logical sense, I happen to know a multimillionaire who lives with precisely this philosophy and believes it to be one of the secrets to his success. I talked with my stake president the month before leaving for Jerusalem to talk to him about what I should do with my life. We talked for over an hour (he thinks I should get an MBA and go into business... mmm, not convinced), and in between the lines he deeply impressed me with how he approaches life and money. Even before he made it big, he decided that he would not let money control his mind, heart, and happiness. During the times in his life that he was basically in poverty, he would always give generously to good causes and other people. And he is convinced it is the only way to live. He tries to judge wisely each person and situation, but he has come to view money as merely another tool to be used to help people. If he gets it back, great. But most of the money he gives out with the explicit promise that they are only borrowing it, he doesn't expect back. To this day, he has given out large sums to friends (to friends, he does not charge interest)—including one who was serving in the stake with him—who promised to give it back ... and haven't. We are dealing with millions of dollars, and it has no effect on him. It is a non-issue for him. In contrast to the natural tendency (speaking from personal experience) to have the owed money festering in the back of my mind as a screaming-to-be-resolved issue, he is genuinely self-forgetful about it.

And you know what? It works. Since being with my companion, I have adopted that as one of my mantras: view money in terms of its value to help others. And it has changed my life. I go out of my way to do things like making treats to share with people, buying things for no other reason than to distribute it later to other people at opportune moments, picking up the tab during outings saying “I'll take this one, you can pay for the next one,” and keeping candy bars and such close at hand to give away during moments when such things aren't accessible and meals are uncomfortably too far away; to a smaller degree, too, I don't resent it when people ask to “borrow” a little money—it usually isn't that much, and I try to remember that that person is infinitely more important than the amount of money I could “lose” on them (how many governmental and other causes devote huge resources to help people, with little results—when our personalized kindnesses are worth so much more?). I don't mention these things to boast or pat myself on the back, only to testify that it has brought me an immeasurable amount of pleasure, satisfaction, and happiness. The cynic may argue that I'm not making any real friends by these actions. There is probably a lot of truth to that. But there are enough people who are genuinely grateful, whose days are unexpectedly lifted, who are inspired to do likewise, that is more than worth it to me. Even if there weren't those people, I don't think that would be my problem at all, that is completely their choice. Besides, the scriptures make it clear, and Deuteronomy 15: 7 not coincidentally repeats, that everything I own is that “which the Lord thy God giveth.” Nothing is really mine. It all belongs to God, I am merely a steward. What's more, if the Gospel is true, God will repay us manifold what we give away for His glory. How much will He likely give if He knows we can be counted on to use money for that purpose! This, too, may be completely counter-intuitive, but there is actually a lot of research that backs it up!

According to research done by Arthur Brooks of the American Enterprise Institute,
“If you have two families that are exactly identical—in other words, same religion, same race, same number of kids, same town, same level of education, and everything’s the same—except that one family gives a hundred dollars more to charity than the second family, then the giving family will earn on average $375 more in income than the nongiving family—and that’s statistically attributable to the gift...Statistically what we find is that if we were to increase our private charitable donations by just 1 percent, which is about $2 billion a year—$2 billion a year from people like you and me writing checks for our favorite causes: our churches and our favorite charities—if we just did that, that would translate into a gross domestic product of about 39 billion new dollars. That’s a great multiplier.” And it gets better: “People who give to charity are 43 percent more likely than people who don’t give to say they’re very happy people.” His conclusion is the same as mine, and what I believe we all knew from the beginning, we just try to talk ourselves out of it: “When people give more money away, they tend to prosper.”   

One of the amaaaazing things about Jerusalem is that you literally can just walk down the streets and pass a dozen historical sites—and not just recent history. So yesterday, we went out to look for a few sites, but on the way there, we passed a place that claimed to be the birthplace of the virgin Mary! It was a Greek church, with lots of beautiful paintings on the main floor. The lower floors were these cool, natural caves. And then today, I was walking to the Garden of Gethsemane and we walked next door to another church dedicated to the Virgin Mary! Both times we really weren't looking for them, but there we were! Add to that the fact that we watched a special documentary series tonight that hasn't been released yet, Messiah: Behold the Lamb of God, (Produced by Bro. Kent Brown himself!), and the section he let us see was on the birth of Christ... I decided to read some things about the Mother of God, and I'm really glad I did!

As I re-read Luke chapter 1, I remembered a life-changing insight that my mission president gave our zone in a zone conference about faith. First, the angel Gabriel appeared to Zacharias and explains to him what God is going to do in his life and he responds, “Whereby shall I know this? for I am an old man, and my wife well stricken in years” (Luke 1:18). And is heartily rebuked for his question. Gabriel responds, “behold, thou shalt be dumb, and not able to speak, until the day that these things shall be performed, because thou believest not my words, which shall be fulfilled in their season” (Luke 1:20). When the same angel appears to Mary and gives her almost the same news... she is still fearful and even “troubled at his saying” (Luke 1:29). She, too, asks a question of the angelic messenger which, at first glance, I thought was identical to the question Zacharias posed to the angel: “How shall this be, seeing I know not a man?” (Luke 1:34). In essence, it is the same question, but there is a huge difference in their attitudes, their fath. Zacharias' question was outright incredulity. Mary's question is completely different. She does not ask for proof of the angel's claims—which would be proof of doubt—but rather, her question is “how shall this be”: she takes it as a given that it will happen... she is merely confused as to the method of its coming to pass. In contrast to the stubborness of Zacharias, Mary submits completely to God with a humble, submissive attitude: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word” (Luke 1:38). Humility and submissive to the will of God... I am hard-pressed to think of more rare virtues that would make her so “blessed among women” (Luke 1:28). I give full credit to God for the type of women He chose to raise His Only Begotten.

I think these two virtues hold the key as to how to be highly favored of the Lord. It caused me to think about all the times that I doubt or am at least impatient with the promises of God. I do it a lot. I know what promises the gospel offers, yet I want things to happen in the way I expect in the timetable I desire...or I get FRUSTRATED. I honestly don't think it is unrighteous of me to want to see God's promises fulfilled, but perhaps it is precisely my zeal and overly-eager expectation to see and know with proof of their fulfillment that are the keeping me from the knowledge that the completely submissive Mary was privileged with... 

Today we had 7 hours of class (1 hour of Old Testament, two sets of 2 hours of Judaism, and two hours of Palestinian). It was quiiiiiite the gauntlet. It was kinda frustrating, because it was really interesting stuff (we finally got the “founding of the state of Israel” war from the Israeli view in any sort of extended form), as well as the origins of the Taliban and Al-Qaeda... and I was SO tired—it was just too much class (plus I got to bed last pretty late...). But the best part was definitely the end of the day: we had a holocaust survivor come, Elias Feinzlberg. It was so awesome. It gave me such a better feeling than other holocaust learning experiences.

It was still genuinely tragic: he broke down a little bit when he said that his entire family was killed by the Nazis... but that was the only time he became emotional. The rest of the time... he was genuinely animated and happy. He didn't sound resentful or angry. He was retelling near-death experiences like they were... youthful adventures. He would tell his starvation in the ghettos, the grueling work in the mines, and concentration camp life with just as much bravado as a campfire story. One of the first questions we asked him was how he could retain his optimism throughout the ordeal. He replied that he just couldn't believe that he was still alive. He felt that only when he stopped working would his life be in danger... and he never stopped working. There was one time that he was so skinny and pale that they told him that he couldn't work... and he had the idea to pinch and slap himself a bit until he got a little red. He got back in line, and they accepted him. It made me realize that not only is there an entire range of holocaust experiences (not all the stories are as bad as the ones highlighted in Yad Vashem), but also that... something that I always felt was true has been confirmed by someone who has actually lived through the worst that life has to offer: you can always remain hopeful and positive.

   We walked up to the gate and wondered if we were in the right place.  There was a long line of Hasidic (ultra-orthodox) Jews with the iconic curls on the sides of their heads (called "peyot") coming out of the building.  But it was the right place: the tomb was in the basement and was also used as a synagogue.
            As I walked into the synagogue, I was humbled what I saw.  Even though I had before been in a place where orthodox Jews worship, the level of devotion of the Jewish people still touches me.  The casket that commemorates the place where David is believed to rest was part of the sacred wall where Jews pray.  As some Jews pray, they rock back and forth as they pray or read from the Torah.  At first, I thought this is unnerving, but then I learned the reason behind it: they interpret the scripture that one should worship God with all one's heart, might, mind, and strength to require a physical manifestation of their worship.  Now every time I see it, I reflect on my personal prayers: am I physically there when I speak to and worship my Lord?

            After visiting the tomb, I sat down on the steps and read a few scriptures related to the life and doings of David.  His was an amazing life: he was a lowly shepherd boy, and grew to be the most successful persona in Jewish history.  He united the tribes under a single banner and extended Israeli territory to the largest it had ever been, before or since.  If anyone had claim to being on top—to being the best, it was King David.  Which is why the rest of his story is so tragic.  His pride was his downfall.  Now, I don't pretend to know all of why he did what he did with Uriah and Bathsheba—only God knows what was truly going through his head and He will be the judge.  What I was struck with, though, was the impression I got that David seemed oblivious to his own slippage.  I have read the Old Testament before, but never in any serious depth until my religion class here in the Holy Land... and I have missed a lot. At the burial place of David himself, I re-read 2 Samuel chapter 12.  It is the prophet Nathan telling David a parable of two men: one rich, one poor.  The rich man “had many flocks and herds... but the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb.”  When a traveler came to the rich man's house, the rich man “took the poor man’s lamb, and dressed it for the man that was come to him.” When David heard this, “David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die.”  David was not even aware of the irony of his statement.  Nathan responded “Thou art the man” (2 Samuel 12:7).  Those four words... are life-changing. 

            People say I overuse that phrase, but that is how I really see things.  And this story, for me, illustrates precisely why.  David, like every. Single. One. Of us...is habitually too slow to look for the multifaceted application to ourselves in every parable, every maxim, every Sunday school lesson, or any inspired piece of truth from any source.  Now, this isn't required by any specific commandment.  It isn't unexpected.  Actually, it justifiably has the potential to be unhealthy... but I posit the idea that it is not only possible to do so healthily, but is actually the best possible thing to do for your health—physically and spiritually.  I am sure David went to religious services, He knew the commandments... yet he drifted far enough away in his mind to be able to listen to truth and either unconsciously zone out, or consciously justify that his situation was somehow different—that the lessons being taught were for “others.”  Imagine how his life would have been different if he would have had the simple humility—at all times and in all places—to say to himself, “I am never beyond the need to learn, improve, or repent.” Imagine a world where everyone asks, “Am I 'the man'”?  or “Lord, is it I?” (Matthew 26:22).  If approached with an eternal perspective, I believe this principle is the basis upon which we fulfill our purpose on Earth and, from my (acknowledgely limited experience) is the quickest way to make heaven of our lives while on Earth.  Consider the words of someone who, I genuinely believe, speaks for God:
“Now as we conclude this general conference, let us all give heed to what was said to us. Let us assume the counsel given applies to us, to me. Let us hearken to those we sustain as prophets and seers, as well as the other brethren, as if our eternal life depended upon it, because it does!” (Spencer W. Kimball, Ensign, May 1978, p.77, emphasis added). Consider also this inspired quote, (that currently happens to be my second favorite of all time):

• “My dear brothers and sisters, the Lord does not want us to become aware of our state of nothingness and misery (see Mosiah 4:11; Alma 26:12; Hel. 12:7; Moses 1:10) only at the Day of Judgment. Now and every day in our mortal lives, He wants to sharpen our awareness. . . as He calls us to a continuous process of repentance...It seems that we can only effectively go through the process of continuous repentance if we literally learn to become our own judges. We ourselves and the Lord are the only ones who really know us. We do not even know ourselves unless we have learned to walk the lonely and most challenging road toward self-honesty, as constantly prompted by the Spirit.  This is the sacrifice we have to learn to offer. Nobody will ever be able to understand or even to accept principles of truth unless he or she, to some degree, has developed a painful awareness of the dimensions of self-honesty. Without the capability to recognize truth, we will not be really free: we will be slaves to habits or prejudices heavily covered with excuses. But learning to become aware of the depth of the dimensions of truth will make us free. We cannot remove a stumbling block unless we see it first. We cannot grow unless we know what is holding us back” (F. Enzio Busche, “University for Eternal Life,” Ensign, May 1989, 71)

            Is this too idealistic?  Perhaps... but for what it is worth, it has changed my life, and I testify that—if this total and constant application is applied holistically to the truths in the gospel (especially those about God's love and mercy)—it is the most liberating and happiness-sustaining ways to live.  Once we realize our relationship to God and our absolute dependence on Him, there is no shame in acknowledging that we have a consistent need to learn, improve, and repent.  In fact, I believe that humble acknowledgment brings us closest to the heart and mind of Christ, the fountain of all joy (See 1 Ne. 11:25 and Rev. 7:17).

     Today we visited Lachish (the site of a famous siege by the Assyrian king Sennacherib), Beth Shemesh (associated with Samson), Azekah, the Elah Valley, and the echoic Bell Caves (really cool caves that people would live in to escape from the heat as well as mine limestone). But Azekah and the Elah Valley were definitely my favorite. They are the sites of one of the most well-known, inspiring, pervasive stories in the entire Bible: the story of David and Goliath. When we stopped at Azekah (which overlooks the Valley of Elah), our teachers told us about where the Israelite and Philistine armies likely were gathered and the types of armor and strategy that they used in war during that era. Then, though, they said that we would be going down into the Valley--the site where David and Goliath actually had their famous mêlée--and we would all be gathering stones and borrowing slings to practice with! I honestly felt like a little kid as my friends and I tried to sling rocks into the open field before us (I'll be honest: we were all pretty terrible), but we all had a great time.

     As I laughed at myself as I struggled to merely load my sling so that it wouldn't fall off the moment I raised my arm. I was able to throw a few straight ones by the end, but none went more than a few yards—nothing that could kill a man, let alone a man like Goliath who “when [the Israelites] saw the man, fled from him, and were sore afraid” (1 Samuel 17:24). And, as I think would be natural considering the circumstances, I tried to put myself in David's shoes. At first, I thought I would be afraid... but then I realized that the comparison really isn't valid: David would have been, well... let's just say, better “built up.” In physical stature, yes, but also in his specific preparation. God knew what he was doing when, for most of his life, he put David as lowly shepherd boy. This instilled in David an unshakable faith (at least in his earlier life) in what he was called to do. I marvel at how his reaction contrasts with the hosts of Israel:

“Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God...? And David said to Saul, Let no man’s heart fail because of him; thy servant will go and fight with this Philistine... Thy servant kept his father’s sheep, and there came a lion, and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock: And I went out after him, and smote him, and delivered it out of his mouth: and when he arose against me, I caught him by his beard, and smote him, and slew him.  Thy servant slew both the lion and the bear: and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be as one of them, seeing he hath defied the armies of the living God. David said moreover, The Lord that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine” (1 Samuel 17:26, 32, 34-37).

What was David's secret? Merely that he trusted in more than the arm of flesh. Even at the critical testing point, when Goliath was staring down at this “ruddy youth” (v. 43), David's perspective went clearly further than solely what his natural eyes beheld at that moment. “Said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand” (1 Samuel 17:45-46).

So then I thought about why I don't always have that kind of confidence all the time. There are probably a lot of reasons, but I think the main ones, at least for me, are two main ones:

1. I am not prepared.
Though I do believe in a God of miracles and that anything is possible, I also believe that we often come up against a circumstance that, because we chose to do other things rather than the best things, we are genuinely not unprepared for. If we had chosen to follow the promptings to do the things we were always “meaning” to do but never “got around to,” I think our options in that circumstance would be very different. Winston Churchill captures my thoughts on this subject most vividly: “To every man there comes in his lifetime that special moment when his is figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered a chance to do a very special thing, unique to him and fitted to his talents, what a tragedy if that moment finds him unprepared or unqualified for that which would be his finest hour.”

2. I put more faith in worldly experience than the promises of God.
I consider myself a thoughtful, reasonable, practical person... But often my trust in reason can cloud my feelings and cause me to discount other, higher considerations. Those who know me can probably tell you how I often analyze situations and try to quantify the benefit/cost ratio for my potential actions...But did David approach his situation like that? No way! If he had, he would not have even considered volunteering himself to fight. There were dozens of perfectly reasonable ways he could have justified not trying! He could have walked away perfectly justified that there was nothing he could do about the situation. But he didn't. He rose to the occasion and put his faith in God, not in man. And he walked away victorious. “so David prevailed over the Philistine... and when the Philistines saw their champion was dead, they fled” (50-51).

Everyone was shocked. Everyone had thought about things the logical, natural way: there was no way that the Philistine's champion could be dead at the hands of a little boy. Everyone said it was impossible (and everyone had every reason to think that!). But they turned out to be the ones with illusory thinking: David prevailed in reality. How often do we look at “the facts” and short-sightedly conclude that we are justified in giving up, giving in, or ceasing to try. How different our lives (and happiness level) would be if we remembered more often and trusted (really trusted) the promises of God. What if we remembered the promises of God and really likened them unto ourselves. What if we said, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine [replace with your current trial here], that he should defy the armies of the living God [replace with your name, remembering the promises God has given you here]...? Promises like:

“Some of you may be shy by nature or consider yourselves inadequate to respond affirmatively to a calling. Remember that this work is not yours and mine alone. It is the Lord’s work, and when we are on the Lord’s errand, we are entitled to the Lord’s help. Remember that the Lord will shape the back to bear the burden placed upon it.”
(Thomas S. Monson, “To Learn, to Do, to Be,” Ensign, Nov 2008, 60–62, 67–68)

"If you understand the great plan of happiness and follow it, what goes on in the world will not determine your happiness." (Boyd K. Packer, Conference Report, Apr. 1994, 26; or Ensign, May 1994, 20.)

“The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.”
(Joseph B. Wirthlin, “Come What May, and Love It,” Ensign, Nov 2008, 26–28)

"I testify that when the Lord closes one important door in your life, He shows His continuing love and compassion by opening many other compensating doors through your exercise of faith. He will place in your path packets of spiritual sunlight to brighten your way. They often come after the trial has been the greatest, as evidence of the compassion and love of an all-knowing Father. They point the way to greater happiness, more understanding, and strengthen your determination to accept and be obedient to His will."
(Richard G. Scott, “Trust in the Lord,” Ensign, Nov 1995, 16)

“If our lives and our faith are centered on Jesus Christ and his restored gospel, nothing can ever go permanently wrong. On the other hand, if our lives are not centered on the Savior and his teachings, no other success can ever be permanently right” (The Teachings of Howard W. Hunter, ed. Clyde J. Williams [1997], 40).

Now, I don't pretend to claim that I always keep this perspective, but I do testify that when I have (and there is no spiritual reason not to!), my life has been joy-filled.  Not problem-free, but definitely despair-free.

     In my last post, I promised that I would try to say more about my experience on Mt. Sinai. Here is my delicate attempt to articulate what happened. In all honesty, I am a little hesitant to share what happened to me, as I've always thought revelation to be something intensely personal that should be 'kept and pondered in one's own heart' (see Luke 2: 19). But it relates to something that I've felt is a decision that is best made with lots of input from others, so here it goes. If anyone has any thoughts, opinions, or suggestions about what follows, I would be deeply grateful to hear them.

     My professors and friends had all said that Mt. Sinai was one of the highlights of the entire program. One of my friends even took the time to write up several pages of what to expect, general advice, and specific things to. One of the things he mentioned was his Sinai experience: he had prepared for it by reading several passages about Moses' life, including some from the Pearl of Great Price. I had planned to read about the receiving of the 10 commandments, but I decided to start with the same chapters he had read.

     The question that I was going to the Lord in prayer and study for was about what career path I should pursue. In the spirit of full disclosure, I thought for sure last year that I was going to be a seminary teacher... but I did not get chosen in the final stages of the process (and once you don't make it, the 'no' is basically final: they said I could try again only after waiting 30 years—no joke)... and I have been *frustrated* with this question ever since. I had been thinking and searching and praying for almost a full year and had yet to receive any concrete answers (at least that I recognized as such...), and in my carnal indignation I doubted that this could be any different. I hadn't read four full verses until that completely changed and I knew that this would not be an ordinary study session. The words “look, and I will show thee” (Moses 1:4) jumped out at me from off the page. At once I got on my knees and prayed to thank Heavenly Father for the spirit I was feeling (and because I had decided earlier that I would pray before and after reading the scriptures and had forgotten to begin with a prayer) and to ask that He consecrate my study for my edification and the glory of His kingdom. I got up and read the rest of the chapter and well into the next few chapters. It was weird: I was thoroughly enjoying my time in the scriptures and feeling edified, but no specific thoughts were yet coming. At the end my study, I said another prayer and felt a distinct impression that I should re-read Moses chapter 1 while on Mount Sinai. So I packed my scriptures in my bag for the next day and went to bed.

     The hike the next day was not nearly as challenging as some had made it out to be, but it still demanded enough of me that I was sweating when I reached the top. We deliberately left very early (2:30 AM!) so that we would be to the top before sunrise. We still had quite a bit of time before the sun came up, and so we all talked and sang hymns together. When the proverbial moment arrived, I was SO excited (my fellow participants would affably impersonate my reaction later...): it. Was. Breathtaking. It renewed my conviction of not only a Creator, but of the joy that comes from appreciating the simple splendor of nature. My gracious friends let me take several pictures of the scene with their cameras, and we all took pictures together. I was so enveloped in it all, that I temporarily forgot about the task that was set apart for me to do. But we hadn't been up there too long since the sunrise, so I set about to find a place to study. As I sat down, though, our teacher announced that we needed to be heading back down for the group devotional: It was time to leave. I could not believe what I was hearing! I was under the impression that we were going to spend a good amount of the morning at the top of the mountain... this was way shorter than I expected. So I made a decision when prompted to join the others down the mountain, I began packing up my things... but then told the last student that I would catch up later: I had something I needed to do. Surprisingly, she didn't react by trying to change my mind. She wished me good luck and told me where they would be stopping.

     I opened my scriptures, said a prayer, and began to read. Moses 1 isn't a long chapter, but I read it slowly, deliberately. Just as had happened at first yesterday, phrases began just jumping out at me. I wrote down every phrase in a little notepad, and then felt prompted that I needed to rejoin my group—quickly (plus I had forgotten where to meet at!). I rushed down the mountain... hoping to see the iconic blue backpacks or red and green water bottle carriers. Fortunately, after several minutes (but more than long enough to feel nervous), I had caught up with those lagging behind and stopped at the right place in the trail with everyone else. I did not receive my answer immediately, but I felt a distinct impression that my piece of notepad paper held the key to my question. I have reread that chapter and looked at that piece of paper probably over a dozen times now, and I really think I have an answer. It is not quite as specific as I would like, but for once, I really feel good about something. I feel that I have been given a mission statement from Heavenly Father. As I mentioned, there were 20 phrases I wrote down, and I think they all have to do with the path of my life, but Moses 1:26 definitely holds the most penetrating and staying power. It says “thou shalt deliver my people from bondage.”

     At first, I thought that this being my mission statement was being a little assuming and self-important... this was Moses we're talking about. But the more I thought and prayed about it, the more—I believe—the Lord was speaking to me through him. I genuinely think this is the answer to my prayer. As I've pondered that phrase... thoughts have come to me such that I think my mission in life has to do directly with 'delivering people' from incorrect thinking—the bondage of approaching life with a distorted or unhealthy view of the world (again, I feel like I'm being a bit presumptuous, but I am honestly just relating what I've felt!). I still don't know exactly where that mission statement is pointing me to go, but now at least I have a stick by which to measure my options. Maybe (though this has classically been lower in my hierarchy of considerations, but higher recently) psychology—it deals with thinking and people, right? I find things like the fundamental attribution error and the spotlight effect intensely interesting, and I truly think that once people are made aware of such tendencies, they can compensate for them—and therefore think and live more happily... hmm... 
We'll see.

     The time was 5:00am.  I had just woken up for the trip I was most excited for of the entire BYU-Jerusalem program: our group was going to EGYPT!!!  It would be a full week trip, and I was prepared: I planned for the heat of the desert, the cold of our 2am mountain hike on the last day of the trip, the general lack of food (there are a lot of things that are not safe to eat in Egypt, plus I can be kinda picky), a small pillow and extra entertainment for the long bus rides, my charger and extra batteries and memory cards for my camera (My laptop is kinda bulky, so I did not bring it, but I bought extra memory cards—29 gigs total--so that there would be NO CHANCE that I would run out of space for my one and probably only trip to a place I had always dreamed of going).   I was stoked.  I could barely sleep the night before.  We stopped at a few places along the way: Beersheba (where Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were thought to have dwelt and dug a well) , the wilderness of Zin (where the children of Israel were for part of their 40 year wanderings as well as where Moses performed the miracle of making water come from smiting a rock), and a few other places (Avdat, Mizpe Ramon), but I was restless... the very next day I would be in AFRICA among the greatest wonders of the KNOWN WORLD!  
     The very last place we went will be forever burned into my psyche: Kibbutz Keturah.  It is actually an incredibly interesting place.  It is an almost completely self-sufficient Jewish settlement at the edge of Israel.  The Kibbutz gave us a tour of the entire facility.  Everyone works for the kibbutz in whatever expertise they bring to the table, and in return get all their basic needs met (food, shelter, education, etc.) plus $400 spending money (depending on how much the whole Kibbutz makes—Keturah makes $5 million a year, mostly from their dairy farm and a freshwater red algae harvesting center—but all profits from everything are shared 100% equally).  For the last event before dinner, we went deep into the neighboring desert—sand as far as you can see.  We were invited to play around for a bit, but then our Kibbutz guide, David, gathered us around and talked about how he thought it was no coincidence that all three of the major monotheistic religions had their origins near deserts—that it was almost necessary to believe in something Greater than oneself amid such vastness.  He said he wanted each of us to experience the desert for ourselves.  He gave us each a pencil and a piece of paper and said to go away from the group—so that we could not see anyone else, and just ponder life until you heard the horn blow.  Then we were to open the paper, ponder the prompt, and write about it.  The second horn blow would signal that it was time to gather back. I had one very specific, very important question to ponder, and I was very excited to empty my head and see if the vast desert could provide the impetus for insight into my question.  So I found a spot, sat down, and began to ponder.  I thought about where I was, about the things I have done and wanted to do in my life, the blessings I had received, and the incredible opportunity that I was experiencing—which experience would lead me to Egypt the very next day!  
And I continued to think...
And I continued to wait...
And I would have opened my paper and began, but he specifically said to resist opening it until the sound of the horn—and I wanted the 'full desert experience'...
So I continued to just sit there and think
…
…
Until one of the students came around and asked me why I wasn't coming back with the rest of the group.
I had missed the horn.  Both times.  
     So I got up and ran to go back to the bus.  But I wanted a panoramic of the desert scene, so I took out my camera and took the picture.  My camera was the only one that takes instant panoramics, so two others asked me to take their pictures which I did.  But I noticed that the lens came out more slowly than normal for the picture, and did not close all the way after the second.  As I walked back to the bus, I was examining it and there was sand all over it.  I was very confused as to why: I was very careful not to jump around during the entire dune excursion... but then I felt my pocket: it was full of sand.  It blew in while I was sitting down waiting for the horn to blow.  I blew all over it to get everything off of it, and turned it on again.  My worst fear came true: the camera made a soft grinding sound and the lens was stuck shut.  The screen said: “Error. Turn off the camera and try again.”  
My heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach.  
     I said a silent prayer of anguish: this couldn't happen right now.  This trip meant too much to me.  I had researched this camera for three months just to be able to take panoramics, hd video, and GPS-tagged photos all over Egypt... To record the trip of a lifetime for a lifetime.  For about 15 minutes I just had this foreboding, sinking, forsaken feeling (I realize that this may sound a bit trivial to some of you, but for anyone that knows me... they know how much technology means to me—I was devastated).  But then I kinda snapped out of it: Where was my faith?  How could I get down at a time like this?  All was not said and done.  There was a myriad of things I could do!  I asked our guide if there were any camera repair services at the Kibbutz... which there wasn't.  I asked our teacher, a picture enthusiast, and he suggested I open it myself and blow it out.  And so I tried to put it out of my mind as we ate dinner and swam at the Kibbutz pool.  I was mostly successful: I was a computer technician!  Of course I would be able to open it up and fix it... There was no way my God would allow me to go camera-less in my only opportunity to go to Egypt... 
     The moment dinner was over, I got out of the pool and found someone with a small screwdriver and went to work—all during the night.  I took my camera apart and blew in each newly uncovered section.  I was praying the whole time: please make it work.  Please make it work.  I got pretty far into the camera—enough to wiggle the lens area, and brushed out all the sand I could.  I would have gone father, but I was trying to balance the danger of breaking something permanently.  When I put it all back together (it was 2am by this time—it was a lot harder to put back together it turns out), I got to my knees and asked for a tender mercy.  I decided to wait until morning to turn it on again—one of my friends said that something similar happened to her camera and she left it alone and when she turned it on the next day, with the lens facing down, it worked and pushed all the remaining sand out.
     I woke up early and turned on the camera: the same. Exact. Error. The lens extended a little bit more, but only marginally.
At this point, I would like to say (again, those who know me can attest to this fact) that I am a pretty optimistic guy.  I look for positive.  I look for the good in all situations.  I try to take the eternal perspective with hope, charity, and faith.  But I'll be honest with y'all: I was profusely frustrated and genuinely let down.  It was more than that, though... I was the type of guy that would to go up to anyone who was having a bad day and try to cheer them up... I would always be so upbeat and happy.  I would always think of a hundred reasons that the person should be happy—and I thought I genuinely believed those reasons.  Confession: I also... secretly... have the audacity to believe that the only reason that one would not be “cheered up” is because they either did not understand or would refuse to apply gospel principles.
     So I tried to hold on to the ideal I had set for myself.  I prayed to have a better attitude... and hope and inspiration came: I would find a compressed air blower at the hotel or a repair shop in Cairo and then all would be good again.  I went to breakfast with a head full of what-ifs and worries, but enough assurance that fixing my camera was still possible, so I wore a smile: I was just on the cusp of having my faith affirmed—I just had to maintain a good attitude and things would work out according to my righteous desires (really: I am on the memories committee here at the Jerusalem center—I used my camera to many righteous ends!).  I didn't have to wait that long.  That day, one of my fellow participants felt sorry for my loss and said I could use her camera the entire time we were in Egypt!  Yes!!  Score 1 for faith in God!  Plus, one of the teachers said that there would be tons of repair shops in Luxor and there would surely be a place that could fix it there as it was a huge tourist spot.  I was still sad that I had to wait a few days for my panoramics and GPS, but the answer had come.  All would be as it was in a few days, and in the meantime, I had a camera for the most exciting time of my once-in-a-lifetime study abroad program.
     Or so I thought.
     The short version: The very next day... sand got in my friend's camera... and IT broke.  Worse, when were at Luxor, me and 3 friends wasted a good portion of our free time trying to find a place to fix them... with nothing to show for it (in fact, as I am writing this, my camera is still giving me the same error after many hours of wasted time and several misadventures of trying to find a place that could fix it).  In all honesty, this is the type of thing that would ruin the entire trip for me.  I love pictures.  I was in Egypt.  I researched that camera specifically for this trip.  There is no way that this was happening.  I was thinking about it... and, barring a death, dismemberment, or other permanently-damaging mishap to myself or fellow participant, I couldn't really think of anything that had the potential to upset me more than my current state of affairs.  
And I laughed.
I laughed at satan.  
    At first, I thought of this as just an unfortunate accident, I also thought it might be God trying to teach me something, but (though my way of thinking still includes the notion that no matter what happens, God can still use it to teach us) now I honestly think that this was satan trying to aggravate and demoralize me and his moment had come—and boy did he take full advantage of it.  And I just had to laugh.  All at once, several thoughts came to me: 

1. Satan has the power to crush my heel, but we have the power to crush his head.
2. Satan is a loser (See  Neil L. Andersen, “Beware of the Evil behind the Smiling Eyes,” Ensign, May 2005,  46)
3. A quote by President Kimball: “Your life is your own, to develop or to destroy. You can blame others little and yourself almost totally if that life is not a productive, worthy, full, and abundant one” (“President Kimball Speaks Out on Planning Your Life,” Sept. 1981, p. 47).
4. And, most importantly, from Neal A. Maxwell: “Sometimes, the best people... have the worst experiences... If we are serious about our discipleship, Jesus will eventually request each of us to do those very things which are most difficult for us” (Neal A. Maxwell, A Time to Choose (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1972), 46).

     I acknowledge that I might be a little presumptuous (ok, probably really presumptuous) to compare this trial to what was asked of Elder Maxwell, but this is what came to me, and I so I can't help but think it is at least moderately applicable.  I was being put through a real test—not one of those superficial ones that really don't matter—but one that, at least for Kendel, was truly asking something of me.  I was being asked to give up something that really mattered to me—something that couldn't just be “focused away.”  Turns out the gospel is a lot harder to apply when it is yourself being handed the bag of crap.  It made me examine my faith: am I a person whose faith, hope, and charity is dependent?  That is only faithful to God “as long as”?  That is only cheerful because, in all actuality, I have no real problems?  And so I laughed.  
     I realized that my thoughts were all centered around how God would come through for me... the only way I would be satisfied was with a working camera.  In other words, my faith was outcome based—a sort of cheap exchange I was making with God, and I was no true disciple if I was only happy when I was getting what I wanted in the exchange.  And so I let it go.  And I instantly felt better.  Honestly, I did not even know there was a camera out there with such a neat panoramic function or GPS ability—how could that mean so much to me when it did not even exist until just recently?  It's absurd!  I was caught in the classic trap of transforming wants into needs and basing how I feel off of worldly comparison.  Now, I would be lying if it didn't hurt a little bit when we would be at a cool site and I knew I wouldn't have the GPS data of where I was at or when there was a great panoramic opportunity and I knew I couldn't capture it, but I can honestly say: I did not let that control my attitude.  I had a great time in Egypt.  And I got tons of great pictures.  My friends are so awesome.  I never had to feel awkward or embarrassed to ask them to take my picture: they were more than happy to.  I probably got a lot more great pictures that I would not have otherwise gotten (it got to the point where we would get to a site and people would ask me what I wanted my picture taken with first!)  I will post more as I get the pictures from my friends... And you know what else?  THAT is what matters most.  I could go on forever about this (as you can easily tell by now if you have gotten this far in this post!), but I am the most blessed person on this earth for so many reasons, but one of the big ones is to have the friends that I do.  I wake up every morning as a cared about, thought about, prayed about, accepted, and overall loved person.  I truly do have every reason to be “cheered up”--if I but focused on this one blessing.  Elder Ballard taught that, “What Matters Most Is What Lasts Longest,” (Ensign, Nov 2005) and friends are forever.  God bless all of you.  One final Elder Maxwell quote: “Sobered and humbled by the grandeur of the Restoration and all that it brings to us, there should be times when you and I leave tears on our pillows out of gratitude for what God has given us” (Neal A. Maxwell, “The Wondrous Restoration,” Ensign, Apr 2003, 30).  I likewise am humbled with gratitude and water my pillow at night to be blessed to know each of the people I call friends.  Thank you.

Today I went to the oldest known man-made structure in the history of the world (the tower dates back to 8000 BC!).  It is located in Jericho, an oasis in the middle of the desert.  There's a spring there that provides water, and it's very green (in complete contrast to the surrounding area).  A lot of things happened with the prophets Elijah and Elisha in Jericho (the whole 'falling of the mantle' thing, as well as Elisha healing the oasis spring—the entire place would have died without that miracle, as well as the crumbling of the walls of Jericho).  While in Jericho, (besides enduring the intense, oppressive, so-sticky-you-feel-like-you-are-swimming heat) I tried some of the local orange juice, hiked up to a Greek Orthodox monastery built into the side of a cliff which commemorated Jesus' fasting for 40 days in the wilderness as well as his resisting of the devil's three temptations (See Matthew 4:8-10).   
It was really humbling to see such a desolate place and imagine our Savior in that environment, all alone, having just realized the full enormity of his calling and responsibility, and imagining what He must have been thinking and praying about during that time.  Of course I don't know, but I kinda feel like my Savior was feeling something that I struggle with so often: inadequacy.  As Elder Talmage comments, “His acknowledgment by the Father [at His baptism], and the continued companionship of the Holy Ghost, opened His soul to the glorious fact of His divinity. He had much to think about, much that demanded prayer and the communion with God that prayer alone could insure” (Jesus the Christ, 120).  I imagine Him saying to Himself: I am the chosen Messiah?  I am to preach a complete restoration of the Gospel to these people—to the entire world?  Am I really to suffer the sins of all mankind—of the history and future of the world?  How...How, Father, how is it possible?  Though I know it is possible, can I really drink this cup?  I imagine that, at the beginning of His fast, that He would “shrink” or even “feel sick” at the mere thought.  This perspective, for me, gives a whole new dimension of meaning to Alma 7:11-12.  Yet he went into  the wilderness immediately (Mark 1:12-13) to grapple with the profundity of what lay before Him, until He could say that He felt right about the mission before Him and He was invested in it with all His heart, might, mind, and strength.  What comfort this gives to me!  Our Savior, the Greatest of all, needed words of confirmation and assurance, just like I do.  Additionally, I really doubt that even after his fasting and prayer, that He was given the answer as to exactly how He would accomplish the task.  He had to struggle with the “how” just as much as I do when faced with uncertainty.  Yet I know that just as it happened for Him in His life, that everything will work out.  He accomplished what He needed to, and so can I, if my heart is right and my faith and determination are true.