Reading the Book of Mormon Daily, Journal #1: The Deep Whisper and the End of the God-Shaped Void

 

It's a cold, wet day after a week of rain.  There is nothing I'd like more than to walk down along the canyon bottom along the jeep trail, walking over wet, polished river stone, water bubbling along the sides of the road through deep green scouring rush, narrow-leaf cottonwood towering overhead, and the sound of Chalk Creek churning some ways off in the distance.  But due to an illness I've had for almost a year, I will have to sit here in my recliner and dream of that experience which is not more than a block away.  And yet, overall, I'm satisfied.

Walking has always been a significant part of my life.  When I lived in El Paso, I'd walk for miles deep into Juarez, Mexico, camera in hand, searching, longing, looking for a deep connection to life.  A little girl in a red dress waiting to use the family outhouse on a chalky, loose hillside above the Rio Grand.

Or even in what I considered the soulless suburbs of North Dallas, I was always walking, searching.  And at the time of the walk, life had meaning; I was connected.  Heat-heavy trees, sound of cicadas, sound of lawn mowers, block after block of perfectly still, seemingly empty track housing, the occasional Rainbird sprinkler ticking--during the walk, it all had meaning.

But then there was all the numbness after returning home.  Much of this, I'm sure, had to do with being shy, of not being able to connect with people other than my brother and a few close friends.

But, I'd also been shy as kid and was happy.

No, something changed, something happened.

I didn't know then what, but I do now.  I'd lost the Holy Ghost.   

That does not mean I'm constantly euphoric now.  I get frustrated at not being able to do what I want.  I'd love to get outside today and dig deeply in the dirt, plant the cherry tree and Japanese maple we bought last week.  But, I can't.

But it's different--there are moments of dissatisfaction, disconnection, anger, questioning Why me? in a sea of overall mental tranquility and satisfaction.  Rough times aren't so rough now.

Before I walked with a void trailing me around, a God-shaped hole, a blackness beating out the anthem articulated so well by Hemingway: nada y pues nada.

This is why so many people who read The Book of Mormon convert to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  Our missionaries do not convert anyone.  Not even the words in The Book of Mormon convert.  Although the book, from a literary perspective, is much greater than the world gives it credit for, its eloquence is not its power.  Its power is in closing the void between God and man, in punching holes through the veil, in allowing the Holy Ghost to whisper all is well.

Last Sunday, we went to my niece's blessing in a ward (local unit of the church) up in Salt Lake.  I was hurting, in a bad mood, and very critical.  One of the members of bishopric kept nodding off to sleep.  It looked like the teenagers passing the sacrament had all stayed up too late and didn't want to be there--and this was after 1:00 in the afternoon!

I kept saying to myself, dang this ward needs help.  But, I was dead wrong.  It was fast and testimony meeting, which is like an open-mic meeting, for church.  And not long after the first couple of testimonies, I looked up and saw the previously slumbering member of the bishopric's face contorted with emotion, trying to hold back the tears.

It's hard to explain that, unless you've felt it.  It's not sadness.  It's actually deep joy.  But not how we experience joy in everyday life--because it's not connected to outside events.  I has nothing to do with how well your day is going.  It's a deep, intense whisper--life has meaning, your being here has a purpose, and there are truths so profound your mortal body could not begin to handle them and this moment is but a glimpse of the glory to come.

That is how The Book of Mormon converts.  True, the missionaries do try to sell you the gospel, as well as members do, like I'm doing now.  But that's not how it works.

It's a deep whisper that occurs while reading, or praying afterwards, or after attending church meetings on faith alone, that will eventually bring tears to your eyes--this is true. 

It may come easy.  It may be quite the struggle.  It may come all at once.  Or it may come in small little bursts.  (It took me nearly a decade of earnest searching to regain the testimony I had as a child.) But, it is promised.  All who will read and study the book with a sincere heart will come to know it's truth:

3 Behold, I would exhort you that when ye shall read these things, if it be wisdom in God that ye should read them, that ye would remember how merciful the Lord hath been unto the children of men, from the creation of Adam even down until the time that ye shall receive these things, and ponder it in your hearts.

 4 And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.

--Moroni 10:3-4, The Book of Mormon

Of this, I testify in the name of Jesus Christ.

Precious Promises of The Book of Mormon