Dig Deep

There is a shovel in our camping trailer that is old, somewhat worn by life and looks every bit like it helped with the hand dug portion of the Panama Canal.

While that is more than likely not true, appearances and a powerfully inventive mind can create something where nothing exists.

My day to day struggle with trying to read, study and ponder over the words of scriptures, lessons and gospel thoughts, habits and actions can in some respect be likened to the old shovel.

Some days, I read and study. Other days, I poke at the effort like a child using a stick in the dirt.

I was somewhat heartened in the Stake Conference talk by Julie Beck about reading and studying. She talked about the need to 'just be in the scriptures everyday'. That seems to be a more understanding approach about the realities of trying to understand and accomodate the life that can tidal wave-like overwhelm my abilities to cope from time to time.

Yet, that doesn't free me up from the necessary obligation to actually do my reading and studying.

Why is it that a novel can grip my emotions and imagination for hours but I don't always have the same feeling in the scriptures.

It's choice.

I can choose to be excited about the latest novel, but studying my Sunday School lesson is a drag.

I can choose to search and struggle through the layers of explanations through the scripture chains and receive the light, or I can remain in the dark and wonder why 'everyone else' is feeling the Spirit.

Using the shovel requires work. It means I'll have sore muscles and eventually, I'll develop an ability to apply its purpose in a meaningful way.

Spiritual effort takes that same determination to achieve the climb up the rungs of a personal spiritual ladder.

I can't start at the top with a full-flowering testimony and epic faith.

Like the shovel and the digging, I have to start by scratching the surface. I have to reveal layer upon layer of all that has gone before and gain an understanding of just how I can apply it.

I remember as a child deciding that I wanted to dig to China. It couldn't be that far, I reasoned.

But as the hot summer day wore on, I realized that the cold lemonade and cookies inside sounded far better than the continued effort with the shovel, which was by now creating a healthy blister on my hand.

Abandoning the effort, I was simply satisfied to say 'I tried'.

Older but not neccessarily wiser now, I wonder if I am using the same justification to prevent the deep and pondering digging required to truly gain the kind of resolute and profound testimony that can exalt.

Allowing the things of the world to intrude upon the most important matters?

Time to dust off the gospel shovel and dig in...