The Power of Discernment

My patriarchal blessing contains the promise that I will have the "power of discernment". That phrase has always intrigued me. When I was a teenager, I believed that I could look at a person and sense what he was feeling, especially if that person were troubled. I recall seeing the wife of my bishop walking quickly through the cultural hall of our building one Sunday morning. She was upset and crying, and I instantly knew that she and the bishop had had an argument, and that he had hurt her feelings.

I realize now, of course, that I did not know anything about anyone. We can often see the surface emotions of happiness and sadness, or excitement or fear. We do not know, however, what is in the person's heart.

We live all of our lives in our own skulls, and we see everyone and everything through the lens of our own eyes. We assume much; we know very little. Even those who are closest to us – our spouse and our children – are far more like opaque granite than translucent crystal. We may think our loved one's know us, but they are as blind to us as we are to them.

Yet, this power of discernment suggests that we do not have to live in total isolation from our fellow mortals. As I have been studying my patriarchal blessing, I have wanted to learn more about this power. If it is not ESP, then what is it, how do we get it, and how does it work?

What Is Discernment?

I always start with the dictionary. There I learn that discernment is "the ability to judge well. Perception in the absence of judgment with a view to obtaining spiritual direction and understanding." Thus, sometimes we may judge well. A trained psychologist can sometimes infer from one's words and actions deeper thoughts, intents, and anxieties. Most of us, however, are not professional observers. For us, perception in the absence of judgment is what we need. It comes not through supernatural ESP, but from spiritual direction.

Daniel H. Ludlow wrote, "The gift of discernment consists of the spiritual quality or skill of being able to see or understand, especially that which is hidden or obscure. To possess this gift is to receive divinely revealed understanding of opposing spirits – the spirit of God and the spirit of the devil. Persons possessing such a gift also correctly perceive the right course of action (D&C 63:41)." Thus we learn that the power of discernment is a spiritual gift. It is a form of revelation. The gift of discernment helps us to recognize good and evil, truth and error. Through this gift we can understand or know something through the power of the Spirit. It includes perceiving the true character of people and the source and meaning of spiritual manifestations.

1 Samuel 16:7 tells us, "But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." The Lord here reminds us that the natural man judges only by what he sees and observes with his natural eyes. The natural man is blind to what lies behind the observable surface.

God, however, knows all things. He knows each one of us inside and out. He sees not only our actions but the purposes and desires behind them. And to those of us who are willing to put off the natural man, he will reveal knowledge when we need it. We can know whom the Lord has refused because his heart is not right, regardless of how righteous he may appear; and likewise we can know whom the Lord accepts and whom he is working with, regardless of the problems he may appear to have in his life and the trials and challenges he may be trying to overcome. What we want to be in our hearts is as important to God as the works we manifest unto man. As we strive to become more like God, we see people more as God sees them, because God reveals their hearts unto us through the gift of discernment.

The gift of discernment can help us in many ways. Stephen L. Richards taught, "Every member in the restored Church of Christ could have this gift if he willed to do so. He could not be deceived with the sophistries of the world. He could not be led astray by pseudo-prophets and subversive cults. Even the inexperienced would recognize false teachings, in a measure at least. With this gift they would be able to detect something of the disloyal, rebellious, and sinister influences which not infrequently prompt those who seemingly take pride in the destruction of youthful faith and loyalties. The gift of discernment [embodies] the power to discriminate between right and wrong [and] arises largely out of an acute sensitivity to spiritual impressions to detect hidden evil, and more importantly to find the good that may be concealed. The highest type of discernment uncovers [in others] their better natures, the good inherent within them."

Near the end of his life and the end of his writings, the prophet Moroni quotes his father Mormon, who teaches us powerful truths about judging and discernment in Moroni 7:12-18. The ability to judge, as it is described in these verses, is the power to discern. In this case, the scripture gives us a key to the discerning of good and evil. This most basic of discerning powers is given to all. The source of this power is the Spirit of Christ, or the light of Christ, which is given to everyone who comes into the world. It is the first and most fundamental gift. This ability to discern right and wrong, good and evil (which we call conscience) can set us initially on the path to Christ and God. This power, however, is only a light in the darkness. It does not force us to judge correctly. It only gives us the chance to do so. We can ignore the gift and choose darkness over light. When we do so, the light can go out, and it may be hard to find it again.

How Do We Get It?

In the first place, the power of discernment is a spiritual gift (see 1 Corinthians 12:10). It is one of the many gifts of the Spirit that are available to faithful disciples of Christ.

Mormon, through his son Moroni, tells us how we receive gifts of the spirit. First he says, "And now, my brethren, how is it possible that ye can lay hold upon every good thing? And now I come to that faith, of which I said I would speak; and I will tell you the way whereby ye may lay hold on every good thing... it is by faith that miracles are wrought; and it is by faith that angels appear and minister unto men; wherefore, if these things have ceased wo be unto the children of men, for it is because of unbelief, and all is vain" (Moroni 7:20-21, 37).

Faith is the first key. Then follows hope. And finally comes charity. (See Moroni 7:40-47.) If we do not have charity, all gifts, including the gift of discernment, are vain, useless, and unfulfilled.

And how to we acquire charity, and all other spiritual gifts? Mormon does not leave us in the dark. "Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure" (Moroni 7:48).

We pray for it, we live for it, we have faith that God will bestow it, we exercise hope, we follow Christ, and we do all we can to become like him.

Put another way, we can develop discernment through the following steps (see "How to Develop the Power of Discernment", LDS Church News, 11/18/95):

• Praying: When we pray, we focus our minds on our Heavenly Father. Prayer is not a chance for us to tell God what we want. It helps us to learn our Father's will.
  
• Searching: Through diligent, prayerful scripture study, our understanding of the gospel increases and so does our ability to recognize truth and error. President Ezra Taft Benson said that the Book of Mormon exposes the enemies of Christ, and it does.
  
• Obeying: When we're obedient to the commandments, we have the Spirit to be with us. When we're disobedient, the Spirit withdraws.
  
• Feeling: We speak of listening to our feelings. If a person, thing or idea makes us feel good and want to be more like Christ, then we know it's good.
  
• Acting: We must heed the promptings of the Spirit. If we don't act upon the gift, the gift dwindles.

Like any gift or talent, the power of discernment must be practiced. While we pray for the gift, we ought also to pray for opportunities to use it. The Lord will establish a program for us to exercise the gift and learn to use it. He will place people and situations in our path that challenge us to discern truth and error, perceive good and evil, and understand the hearts of others. If our heart is pure, God will help us see into the hearts of others so that we may exercise charity to help them.

How Does It Work?

We get a clue to the operation of this power in the revelations to Joseph Smith. "Behold, I, the Lord, will give unto my servant Joseph Smith, Jun., power that he shall be enabled to discern by the Spirit those who shall go up unto the land of Zion, and those of my disciples who shall tarry" (D&C 63:41). The Prophet Joseph knew by the Spirit (i.e., by revelation) the will of the Lord for what people in the Church should do. The ability to discern the will of the Lord is another way of describing personal revelation.

The Apostle Paul provides more clarification. "For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12).

The word of God is revelation, which comes through the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost can discern our thoughts and our desires or intentions. He knows what we are thinking, planning, and purposing to do, regardless of what we actually do. And he can reveal those thoughts, purposes, and desires to those who are spiritually in tune. If we ask, we do not have to be deceived by false teachings and false actions of others. We can know by the Spirit what is in another person's heart, regardless of how they may appear. That is the gift of discernment. By that same power of revelation, we can also know when a person's desires and purposes are right and good, regardless of the mistakes he may make.

An excellent example of the use of the gift of discernment is found in the story of Ammon and King Lamoni. In this story, Ammon defends the flocks of the king and defeats the wicked men who seek to steal them. This is the favorite story of every boy in the Church, because Ammon cuts off the arms of the attackers, and the king's servants bring in the gory bundle of severed arms to show the king. It is the legitimate, mormonized version of a good old fashioned horror movie.

At any rate, the king summons Ammon, but then he is too awestruck by this humble servant to speak to him. So after an hour of silence, Ammon asks the king if he is marveling because Ammon has wounded and killed the king's enemies. This is how Lamoni responds: "Now when the king had heard these words, he marveled again, for he beheld that Ammon could discern his thoughts; but notwithstanding this, king Lamoni did open his mouth, and said unto him: Who art thou? Art thou that Great Spirit, who knows all things?" (Alma 18:18).

The Lord revealed to Ammon the king's thoughts so that he could teach the king about the gospel. Not only did Ammon know the question that the king wanted to ask him, but he also knew that his heart was prepared to receive the gospel.

An example of a different way that discernment works, is found in the life of Moses. During his face-to-face interview with God, at the time that he received his calling, the scriptures tell us, "And it came to pass, as the voice was still speaking, Moses cast his eyes and beheld the earth, yea, even all of it; and there was not a particle of it which he did not behold, discerning it by the Spirit of God. And he beheld also the inhabitants thereof, and there was not a soul which he beheld not; and he discerned them by the Spirit of God; and their numbers were great, even numberless as the sand upon the sea shore" (Moses 1:27-28).

The experience of Moses with God on the mountain is a perfect example of the ability through revelation to discern all things. In one burst of knowledge, he comprehended the vastness of the earth and every microscopic particle at the same time. Through that same revelatory power he was able to comprehend every inhabitant of the earth, past, present and future. He not only saw them, but he discerned them, meaning he knew them, knew their hearts, knew their potential, and knew their shortcomings.

This is the same process by which Jesus atoned for the sins of the world and took upon himself all of our afflictions. Bishop H. David Burton once taught that Christ did not atone for the sins of the world in one massive lump. In other words, the sins of the world were not laid on his shoulders as a single great pile of guilt and suffering. Rather, Bishop Burton suggested, Christ discerned each of us – every soul who ever lived, was living then, and would yet live on this earth – by the power of the Spirit. Just as Moses discerned us all, one by one and individually, so Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane discerned each of us individually.

He saw me; he walked with me; he lived my life with me; he experience each mistake, each embarrassment, each fault, each sin in my life. And having been through it all with me, he agreed to own every sin, every guilt, every failure. He hurt when I hurt; he cried with I cried; he felt every trial and affliction and sorrow that burdened my heart, and he agreed to carry them. And he did it billions of times for you and me and everyone. By the power of the Spirit, in the space of a few hours of earth time, he lived countless billions of lifetimes. He took it all. He drained the cup. He left nothing to chance. He left nothing undone. Thus is his Atonement infinite and eternal. He paid for an infinite number of sins for an eternal period of time. We cannot commit one more sin that he has paid for, and we cannot wait until the Atonement has reached the statute of limitations and then commit a sin that he missed. It is all covered, and it was done through the power of discernment.

Conclusion

"And if your eye be single to my glory, your whole bodies shall be filled with light, and there shall be no darkness in you; and that body which is filled with light comprehendeth all things" (D&C 88:67). When we consistently discern truth from error and choose truth, our eye becomes single to God and his ways. Our righteous choices open a conduit through which pure light can pass and fill us. When we are full of light, there is no room for darkness. When we turn on a light in the middle of a room, the only shadows we see are cast by obstructions, our own selves being perhaps the biggest obstacle of all. If we remove all of the obstacles, every corner of the room is filled with light, and there is no darkness.

That is how I want to be. When I am filled with light, two things happen. First, others who are spiritually minded will discern the light within me. And second, I will be able to comprehend (i.e., discern) all things. Nothing that is good will be hid from me. And nothing that is evil will deceive me. The conduit of light that fills me will be like fiber-optic cable transmitting revelation directly to me. When I need to know something, I will know it by the Spirit, no matter how big or no matter how small.

Testimonies Are More Like Trees Than Cornstalks

While studying for an upcoming Sunday school class, I gleaned an insightful thought from Elder Boyd K. Packer's talk in the 1982 Mission President Seminar, titled "The Quest for Spirit Knowledge" (see New Era, Jan. 2007, 2–7).

"A testimony is not thrust upon you; a testimony grows. We become taller in testimony like we grow taller in physical stature; we hardly know it happens because it comes by growth. You cannot force spiritual things. Such words as compel, coerce, constrain, pressure, and demand do not describe our privileges with the Spirit. You can no more force the Spirit to respond than you can force a bean to sprout or an egg to hatch before its time. You can create a climate to foster growth, nourish, and protect; but you cannot force or compel: you must await the growth. Do not be impatient to gain great spiritual knowledge. Let it grow, help it grow, but do not force it or you will open the way to be misled."

I offer some thoughts related to this statement, not to boast, but simply to share and to encourage. My experience for the most part bears out Elder Packer's assertion that a testimony grows imperceptibly. It is true that I can point to very specific moments in my life when my testimony of one principle or another has burst forth in brilliant, revelatory light. But those moments are the exception rather than the rule.

The Cornstalk

For example, I learned that the Book of Mormon was true after reading just one sentence. About three weeks before I was due to leave for my mission to Germany I had reached a crisis in my faith. I believed the Church was true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet, but I did not know it. Like many young missionaries, I questioned whether I could spend the next two years testifying of something I did not know for sure was true. In my young mind, so full of worry and fear, I came to the conclusion that I either had to have a sure testimony or I would not go on my mission. In my exigency, I remembered the words of Sister Nelson, my seminary teacher, that the keystone of our religion is the Book of Mormon. If the Book of Mormon is true, everything else follows. I determined that the Book of Mormon would be my test. If God would reveal to me that the Book of Mormon is true, I would be satisfied that all of the rest would fall into place.

After a depressing day of meaningless and spiritless church meetings, I made up my mind to begin my experiment the next day. On Monday morning I prepared for school a half hour early. I seated myself in the recliner in my room, kicked up my feet, open my leather-bound Triple Combination, and thumbed to the first page of the Book of Mormon. I closed my eyes and said a simple, sincere, desperate prayer. "Heavenly Father, if you are there, and if you want me to go on this mission, please tell me that the Book of Mormon is true."

I began reading in 1 Nephi Chapter 1. I fully expected to read for thirty minutes that morning and again in the evening and every day for the next three weeks, until I reached the end of the book. When I finished the book, I expected that I would have an answer either way. But what happened that first Monday morning rocked me to my core. I had no sooner read the words "I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents" than I was instantly overcome by a powerful feeling of warmth and peace. The Holy Ghost pored pure knowledge into my mind and changed my heart. He bore knowledge into the very fibers of my being at the cellular level.

In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that Nephi was a real person. He had lived a real life. He had real parents. He had walked across the desert, fought with his brothers, retrieved brass plates, built a ship, and sailed with his family to the American continent. I knew that the Book of Mormon was true, that it had been written by ancient prophets and translated by a modern prophet. In that moment, all doubt and fear were swept from my mind. I knew I could serve my mission with confidence that I could testify boldly of the gospel of Christ as it was contained in the Book of Mormon.

I read for the allotted thirty minutes, and then put the book down so I could go to school. When I closed the cover, the feeling stopped. What was that? I wondered. I thought about the experience throughout the day, but the feeling itself was gone. Perhaps I had only imagined it. Maybe I had hypnotized myself. Try as I might, I could not conjure up that warm and peaceful feeling again.

Determined, however, to keep my personal commitment to continue the experiment, I took my seat in my recliner the next morning, picked up the book and turned to the place where I had left off the previous day, and said the same prayer. "Heavenly Father, if you are there, and if you want me to go on this mission, please tell me that the Book of Mormon is true." As I started to read, the same overpowering feelings took possession of me, and I knew again with a certainty as surely as if I were standing on the deck of the ship with Nephi that he was a real person and that he had written the words I was reading. I knew my mission call was from God and that he wanted me to go on my mission.

I reveled in the glow of the Spirit for a half hour, and then closed the book. It was like I had just turned off a light bulb. I was not cast, however, into total darkness. A faint ember continued to glow in my heart. I again pondered my experience throughout the day. Maybe there is a pattern here, I thought to myself.

The next morning I arose early again, this time anxious to get my reading underway. I sat down, opened the book, said my prayer, and again the feelings came, my mind expanded, my heart swelled, and I knew that it was all true. I was convinced that I was not making this up, that I was not hypnotized, that I was experiencing a real communication from heaven, sent by a loving Heavenly Father who knew what his son needed to enable him to accept his call to serve a mission. I continued to read every day until I left on my mission, with the same effect each time I opened the book. It was no longer a surprise, however, but a great comfort and a steady assurance that I was known by God and that he cared about me. My heart was changed. My mind was enlightened. My conviction was anchored. My knowledge was sure.

Such was my experience in a moment of extreme crisis. Not everyone faces such a crisis, nor have such events occurred regularly in my life. To Elder Packer's point, I can also testify that testimony typically grows rather than bursts forth. These fast-growing cornstalks of testimony have been the exception in my life. Most of my testimony has grown slowly over the years, like the Japanese Elm tree in my front yard.

The Tree

A few years after we moved into our home in Kaysville, I dug out a patch of sod in the middle of our front lawn and created a garden patch. In the middle of this island Evelyn and I planted a Japenese Elm. For the first few years of its life, the tree was barely larger than a bush. It was no taller than my head. When I used the electric weed wacker to trim around the island, I could simply throw the extension cord over the top of the tree as I worked my way around the border.

Then one day, to my surprise, the cord got caught in the top branch of the tree. I had to stop trying to throw the cord over it and to backtrack around the island to finish trimming. Without my realizing it, the tree had grown.

So has been my testimony.

Today I know that God lives, that he loves me, and that he knows me personally. I know that Jesus Christ lives. He is my personal Savior as well as the Redeemer of the world. He has taken upon him my sins and has provided a way for me to become perfect in him. I know that he has all power and is filled with perfect and abiding love for all of God's children. I know that Joseph Smith was God's chosen prophet in these last days. I know that the gospel he restored is the true doctrine of Christ. I know the plan of salvation is true. I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is God's true church on the earth today. I know that there is power in the priesthood. I know that President Thomas S. Monson is a living prophet of the living God. I know that Boyd K. Packer and his eleven brethren in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles are living witnesses of the resurrected Christ.

This knowledge has come to me line upon line and precept upon precept, here a little and there a little (see Isaiah 28:10). It has grown in me because I made room for the seed to take root in my heart, I nourished the seed with daily prayer, scripture study, and faithful obedience to the best of my ability, and I applied a healthy dose of faith (see Alma 32:28). As a result, my tree of testimony has grown slowly but surely, imperceptibly at times, but miraculously nonetheless. There have been years of drought and periods of pestilence. But the tree has endured. What was once a little bush of belief is now at least tall enough that I cannot just toss an extension cord over it anymore. I anticipate more wonderful growth if I continue to nourish it. As the Son-light grows brighter and brighter in my life, I look forward to the day when my little tree of testimony, touched by the hand of Christ, will become a tree of life, even eternal life. Such is my testimony.

The Quest for Spiritual Knowledge

In 1982 Elder Boyd K. Packer of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints spoke to a group of newly called mission presidents. His objective was to teach principles to those leaders that they could use to help the missionaries of the Church become more effective in proclaiming the gospel to the world. Elder Packer titled his talk "The Quest for Spiritual Knowledge" (see New Era, Jan. 2007, 2–7)

Since the focus of this blog is learning by the Spirit, Elder Packer's remarks seem particularly pertinent. I will share below a few statements from this talk and then add my own thoughts.

"The Spirit does not get our attention by shouting or shaking us with a heavy hand. Rather it whispers. It caresses so gently that if we are preoccupied we may not feel it at all. Occasionally, it will press just firmly enough for us to pay heed. But most of the time, if we do not heed the gentle feeling, the Spirit will withdraw and wait until we come seeking and listening and say in our manner and expression, like Samuel of ancient times, 'Speak [Lord], for thy servant heareth' (1 Samuel 3:10)."

I am constantly preoccupied with my own thoughts and my daily activities. I go through my day, for the most part, not expecting any promptings from the Holy Ghost. In my vanity, I do my "thing", and I think I am pretty good at it. As a result, I know I miss many opportunities to receive impressions from the Spirit.

Sometimes I become aware at the edge of my consciousness of the gentle caress of a thought, a suggestion to do something or say something or make some adjustment in my activity. But all too often I dismiss the thought in my headlong rush to complete the task in which I am engaged or to stay the course on which I have embarked. I think to myself, Well, that is an interesting thought. If the Spirit is really trying to tell me something, surely he will repeat the message two or three times so he really gets my attention. 

But according to Elder Packer, that is not how the Spirit works. If I do not pay heed and respond, the Spirit withdraws and waits.

I get little ideas all the time. Earlier this week, for example, the impression came to my mind while I was in the middle of writing an email at work to send Evelyn a text and ask how her day was going. I thought, Ok, I'll do it, but after I finish this email. Then I got busy and forgot. When I got home, I found out that she had come down with the flu and felt terrible. I remembered distinctly that moment when the Spirit had whispered to me, and I had ignored it. That night I asked the Lord to forgive me for having ignored his prompting and pleaded for another chance on another day to be more responsive. Of course, the next day I got another prompting, and I was busy with self-important things, and I ignored it again.

It is a cycle – a habit – that I need to break. But how?

It starts with my very purpose for living this day. If my goal is to follow the Lord's will as a faithful disciple, then I should be anxiously expecting to receive direction so I know how to act. On the other hand, if my goal is to do my own work according to my own will, my focus will be elsewhere, and the Spirit will have a hard time reaching me. Learning to be a disciple is a lifelong journey, and I spend far more time face-planted on the path than I do walking it.

I am grateful that the Spirit is patient. The Lord has faith in me. He believes I will eventually succeed, no matter how many times I stumble. And so he waits for me along the way. And in those rare moments when I have enough faith and forethought to rise up and say "Speak, for thy servant heareth," he speaks. It is a matter of tuning in and staying tuned in.

"We are expected to use the light and knowledge we already possess to work out our lives. We should not need a revelation to instruct us to be up and about our duty, for we have been told to do that already in the scriptures; nor should we expect revelation to replace the spiritual or temporal intelligence that we have already received—only to extend it. We must go about our life in an ordinary, workaday way, following the routines and rules and regulations that govern life. Rules and regulations and commandments are valuable protection. If we need revealed instruction to alter our course, it will be waiting along the way as we arrive at the point of need. The counsel to be 'anxiously engaged' is wise counsel indeed (see D&C 58:27)."

I am encouraged by this counsel. Going about my everyday life in an everyday way is not really such a bad thing. I should not expect a constant flow of revelation from minute to minute. The Lord should not need to direct my every step. If I am generally in the right way and doing the right things, he will let me work out many things for myself. "For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant" (D&C 58:26).

Nevertheless, it is a balancing act. This balancing act is a skill, and a skill can be learned and improved through practice. Effective practice requires a teacher, effort, feedback, and repeated opportunities to try. Heavenly Father is the teacher. I can go to him in the morning and ask for lessons and opportunities to receive something from the Spirit this day. I make the effort to stay aware, to listen, to try to notice the flashes of ideas that may come at odd moments. I may miss a lot of those moments, but when they come, I can make the effort to react, and then see what happens. At the end of the day I report back to my Teacher, review my practice sessions, and ask him how I did.

It is like learning to play the violin. We try to get a little better every day. We stretch and grow our talent by trying new things, failing, and then trying it again. We do not play a concerto the first time we pick up our instrument. We grow into it with daily directed practice. We do not have to be perfect the first time we play, only the last time.

As I practice this dance between agency (my will) and discipleship (God's will), I remind myself that in the absence of specific divine direction, I cannot be afraid to move forward in a logical and reasonable way using good judgment and common sense. At the same time, however, I need to keep my spiritual eyes and ears open for those faint and gentle signposts that are set to alter my course along the way. To miss a heaven-sent fork in the road not only wastes time and energy, but potentially leaves me on a dangerous path that can be fraught with unhappiness and failure.

Thankfully, the Savior stands at the end of the road. He beckons and encourages and waits patiently for me to make my way to him. He has provided a direct route to his embrace – not a stone-free, level path, to be sure. The way is strait (strict) and narrow, with many twists and turns and hills and valleys along the way. If I listen carefully, I can hear his voice gently, quietly calling me to him. When I get distracted by an attractive byway, or when I stubbornly decide that I know the way without help, that voice grows faint. Eventually the path becomes obscure and I run into a box canyon from which I have to retreat with a degree of effort, which is called repentance. When I find my way back to the true path, the reassuring sound of his voice is still there, and he stands ever patient at the head of the gate.

I am grateful for those times along my journey when he has succored me. The modern definition of "succor" is to come to the relief of someone in distress. Originally it meant "to run to help." I like the image of my Savior running to me when I stumble and fall along the path. When Peter tried to walk with Jesus on the stormy Sea of Galilee and began to sink, the Lord immediately reached out his hand and lifted Peter up. When one out of ninety-nine sheep became lost, the Shepherd went in search of it, and finding it, carried it upon his shoulders back to the flock. The old billboards I used to see along the highway were right: Jesus saves!

My testimony is that he saves every time. He will let no one sink who reaches for his hand. He will let no sheep wander to the edge of the cliff and fall off who wants to be rescued. He succors us, he runs to us, he calls to us, he gives gentle direction (always careful to not override our agency), and he provides signposts along the way when we need to alter our paths. God is very, very good. May we learn to ask for his help, and then watch and listen diligently for those moments when he whispers, "Come, follow me."